


FFxivWrite2017 Collection

by Syan_Mythros



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Drabble Collection, FFxivWrite2017, Gen, Writing prompt collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-02-01 19:25:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 26,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12711387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syan_Mythros/pseuds/Syan_Mythros
Summary: All of my written works for the FFxivWrite2017 challenge on tumblr.  Each day a new prompt is posted and all of mine center around my main character Dacien Mythale and the family and friends surrounding him.





	1. Directory

Chapter 1: Specter - Echoes of Melancholy

Chapter 2: Synthetic - How Does Your Garden Grow

Chapter 3: The Twelve - Of Gods and Men

Chapter 4: Self-editing - Metamorphosis

Chapter 5: Prank - Twisted Every Way

Chapter 6: Identification - What Lies Beneath

Chapter 7: Broken Leaf - Tough Love

Chapter 8: Shadows - Lingering Doubts

Chapter 9: Linkpearl - Digging Too Deep

Chapter 10: Slap - Healing Touch

Chapter 11: Mercy vs Justice - The Truth Sets You Free

Chapter 12: Caste - Dances of Words

Chapter 13: Wounded Animal - Equivalent Exchange

Chapter 14: Wit - Greener Than The Gardens

Chapter 15: Doppelganger - Stunt Double

Chapter 16: Ceruleum - Unleash

Chapter 17:  Fate - Retrospection

Chapter 18: Self Control - Broken Threads

Chapter 19: Battle of Wills - Festive Fighting

Chapter 20: Blending In - Skitters in the Dark

Chapter 21: Wind - A Moment's Respite

Chapter 22: Monster - It's All Relative

[There is no 23rd prompt.  Thanksgiving was a freebie!]

Chapter 24: Standing In Line - Holiday Suffering

Chapter 25: Obsolete - Threadbare

Chapter 26: Sacred - Prayers Offered

Chapter 27: Foot in Mouth - Business Propositions

Chapter 28: Rivalry - The Ghost of Starlight Past

Chapter 29: Prophecy - Warnings of the Past

Chapter 30: Frost - Crystalline


	2. Specter - Echoes of Melancholy

The hearth had burned low, the embers giving a dim red glow as the rest of the room was shrouded mostly in darkness.  Two chairs sat before the fireplace, a small table with a mostly empty bottle of wine and a glass between them.  One chair held a slouched form, the dark shirt open at the throat as pale arms rested atop his knees and held the man’s head in it.  Long hair, layered and ink dark shrouded his form, a waterfall keeping him from prying eyes though there were none.  The only sound save a pop from the fire was the large old clock in the corner.  

 

To say Dacien was a bit inebriated was an understatement.  This had been his third bottle of the night and the blend was more potent than the common stock.  He’d found it a fitting way to ‘celebrate.’  A sigh escaped him, the slight creak of leather boots and pants as he shifted.  Something else shifted then and he stiffened, head still down.  He could feel it in the air, the shift.  He was no longer alone.

 

_ ‘It’s good to see you Dacien,’ _ the voice called out quietly.  Silence hung for a moment again as the figure seated itself in the now empty chair.

 

“I’ve missed you,” Dacien managed to choke out as he slowly raised his head, “Uncle.”

  
Glowing turquoise fell on the transparent visage of his uncle that now sat in the chair not far from him.  It was unnerving and he was sure had he not seen such things already he would be more shaken.  Cisent gave the other man a sad smile as he looked at those glowing eyes.  They spoke volumes and it pulled at him.  There, in those luminous depths he could see the small boy he remembered and he wondered the path that had led him here.

 

“How?”

 

It was a simple question and yet it held so many meanings in that moment.  Though once it would have held another he had learned himself not so long ago that answer.  How his uncle had died was no longer a nagging little suspicion in the back of his head.  He knew full well that his own father had killed the man.

 

_ ‘I could not begin to tell you but I am here for now,’ _ Cisent offered quietly, the sad smile still there,  _ ‘To see you so grown...and as you are.’ _

 

Dacien sighed, the meaning was clear and he threaded fingers together in his lap as he responded, “I did not always make the wisest of choices.  Something I have paid the price for though in some ways luck was on my side.”

 

A bitter chuckle slid free as Dacien shook his head, “Those same choices led to the truth of..your murder.”

 

It was a bitter pill to swallow still and yet not so unbelievable truly.  He turned his head slightly, the swirl of emotions rising in him once more, “To think all this time...but I know now and he has been properly punished for it.  Perhaps not in the eyes of the people but he won’t harm anyone else.”

 

_ ‘And thusly the title falls to you now,’ _ Cisent murmured,  _ ‘A task you never wanted I suspect.’ _

 

“No,” Dacien agreed, “I never wanted this.  But…. at least now I can ensure those I care for are kept from harms way.  Evie has ever been safe but mother suffered for years...even Lucioux to an extent.  Though they fear he will never recover proper function.”

 

A snort then as he added, “While he is blood his own choices led him to such ruin.”

 

_ ‘As your own could have done to you,’  _ Cisent pointed out quietly.

 

Dacien’s head sunk once more into his hands, “As mine could have done.  True enough.”

 

Silence held over the room, save the clock in the background.  After what felt like ages passed Dacien looked up to Cisent’s translucent form once more.  Tears hung in the corners of those brightly glowing eyes.  A vulnerable side that only a few had ever seen of him.

 

_ ‘You however have come out stronger,’ _ Cisent offered as he stood and moved toward Dacien.  The transparent man knelt before his nephew, hands hovering over Dacien’s shoulders,  _ ‘I am proud of you and who you have become. I don’t have much longer but know that I’m always watching over you and Evie.’ _

 

“Thank you uncle,” Dacien whispered as he watched his uncle smile one last time before the man faded from his sight once more. The wine and the fire were forgotten as his head slipped down into clawed hands and despite his heart feeling lighter, he wept.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Upstairs in a guest bedroom the blanket covered figure shifted slightly as transparent fingers ghosted over her cheek as if to push the hair back.  He leaned over slowly, ghosting intangible lips to her forehead before he whispered,  _ ‘Be safe my little flower.  Bloom in adversity as you always have and let them feel the thorns of your garden while soft petals keep those dear to you safe. I love you.’ _

 

Cisent straightened and pulled back as he watched a faint smile creep onto Evie’s face.  His own lips turned up as he faded away, the veil between the worlds weakening and claiming him back to the other side once more.


	3. Synthetic - How Does Your Garden Grow?

Green and vibrant color surrounded her as she made her way through the gardens.  Everything was so alive, blooms no matter where you turned.  Her small hands trailed along some plants low enough for her to reach and she giggled as the soft petals tickled the pads of her fingers.  Her shoes tapped with each step as she made her way along the stone pathway, her dress brushing leaves.  She loved it here, it was her solace, her comfort.  Evie paused and turned slightly to look up.  A large bay window overlooked the garden and she gazed at it, a sad look crossing her face.  Her mother’s bedroom...no more recently her mother’s sickroom.  The small girl drew her lower lip between her teeth and chewed lightly at it.  Her mother hadn’t been able to come to the gardens with her for some time having been bed bound for the last fortnight.  

 

The small child looked around, verdigris orbs looking at the array of colors, before an idea struck her.  If her mother could not come to the gardens, she would take the gardens to her mother.  Tiny hands carefully picked a bouquet of flowers and greenery before she set off at a hurried pace into the house.  Such was the new tradition she maintained for weeks, each time earning praise from her mother for the beautiful selection and the kind thought.  However, like those plucked flowers that wilted, so too did her mother.  The sickness sent her health into a decline and the room was ordered cleared to prevent further issues.  Bouquet after bouquet was carried out to the girl’s dismay but she did her best to understand.

 

“Momma’s going to get better isn’t she Papa?” she asked one day as she sat with Cisent in the library.  He’d been reading to her and in a pause the question had arisen.  Before he could answer though she gazed up at him nervously, a worried look on her small face, “The flowers didn’t make Momma worse did they?”

 

“Oh no, my dear one never think that,” he offered and pulled the small girl close, “The flowers would not harm her no, in fact she oft times has told me how much she appreciates you gathering them for her.”

 

Gently his hand stroked her hair as he held her close,  her small arms wound around her father’s chest.  Cisent swallowed and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he steadied his voice before he spoke, “Why don’t you go and gather her a fresh bouquet now.  That way when the healers are finished with their visit you can share them with her.”

 

Something felt off but she pushed it aside as she gazed up at her father, a bright smile on her face as she nodded, “Of course, I’ll bring her the purple ones she likes so much.”

 

With no more hesitation he released her and she took off toward the gardens at a fast pace.  A heavy sigh left Cisent once she was safely out of range.  It had been a plan to distract her, to keep her occupied and happy.  His shoulders slumped as he recalled the talk he’d had not two bells earlier with the main healer in charge of her care.  With a heavy heart and what felt like lead in his boots he made his way to her room.  Her last moments would be spent with him while their daughter played in the garden to spare her as best as he could.

 

~~~~~~~

 

Flowers were all around, bearing ribbons and other trims and ornamentations but she hated the colors.  She hated the ribbons.  These were not flowers she wanted to see.  These flowers represented something she could hardly stand to think of.  Tiny feet turned and she bolted out of the manor.  Tears blinded her as she made her way to collapse in the heart of the garden on the bench.  A bench she’d once shared with the woman those flowers had been sent to mourn.  Sobs shook her small body as she curled into herself.  Exhaustion overtook her eventually and at dinnertime Cisent came out to find her.  A quiet sigh escaped him as he saw Evie curled on the bench.  Carefully he lifted her up and settled himself down, holding her close as they both sat there.  She snuggled into him and he held her tightly.  He leaned down to place a kiss on her hair gently, staying there as tears spilled over and the two said their proper goodbyes to Vielle.

 

~~~~~~

 

Years had passed, she made it her goal to tend those gardens with her father.  Caring for the plants, learning all she could about them.  Her father had granted her every wish in regards to it.  Books, tutors, all she could ever seek. Those gardens had become her haven and even her cousin would spend time with her there.  He with his books and magic while she tended the plants and chattered about the uses for this herb or that.  Things seemed happier and peaceful, she fell content into the new routines.  While there was still a heaviness to her heart light was working it’s way back in and the flowers bloomed and thrived as did she.

 

That illusion was shattered the moment flowers arrived that fateful morning.  A bouquet of dark flowers with a card lay on the ground as she sat curled into herself not an arm’s length away.  Tears tracked down her face as once more her world was shattered, quiet wails slipping from her throat as the staff attempted to comfort her.  Now the garden was hers alone and it felt empty to her.  She ignored it for a time, forgetting to tend it and instead leaving it to it’s own devices as she grieved another lost parent.  Overgrown, the greenery climbing the walls of the manor she let it go.  Some time after things settled Evie slowly began to bring herself to tend it again, making sure to cultivate and grow the famed roses that the Mythale gardens were known for.  Evie worked hard to bring them back to their former glory and was succeeding.  It was a distraction, a way to overcome the hand she had been dealt.

 

That work was for naught as the calamity struck.  The snow and ice killed everything green and thriving in that garden in one fell swoop.  She bundled up that morning after and walked through the frozen foliage, distraught over it all.  It seemed fake, unreal and as if some elaborate sculpture frozen before her.  Frost on the petals of the roses, the gerbera and peonies stiff and unmoving in the chilly breeze.  Nothing seemed real, and it upset her, it was wax looking.  There was little to be done at first.  No matter how many times she tried nothing it seemed had made it and the seeds she’d had saved would not grow like this.  Yet she tried, studying more.  The climate had shifted so drastically that only the strongest of plants would survive.  The roses clung on the longest and only with her care, but they too were shadows of their former selves.

 

Things progressed and again and again she struggled to get things to grow.  Hope had almost fled her til a small package arrived one day, with a letter from her cousin.  A wicked grin crossed the young woman’s lips as she knew what to do.  Supplies were ordered and she set to work.  Her mind even from a young age had never cared for the typical fare of dolls and the idea of suitors and marriage.  She craved knowledge and had snubbed all attempts of others to suggest she ought to ‘put her mind in the proper place for a lady of her standing.’  She’d called it rubbish, especially after her father died, and settled into learning what she could.  She and Dacien ran his businesses, she studied still in lieu of going to parties and now…  Now she was finding ways to fabricate a growth formula to help plants lost to the frozen weather grow once more in the indoor garden she had built of glass, stone and metal.  


	4. The Twelve - Of Gods and Men

“Why do you even carry this drivel?”

 

The voice carried out from between the shelves as Dacien made his way back over a few more books in hand.  His newest ‘employee,’ a man by the name of Isterre was learning how to organize and shelve the books.  The elezen Lord paused, leaning against the one shelf lightly as he watched the almost violet haired man grumble.

 

“Because there are those who do enjoy reading it and study such beliefs,” he responded with a slight shrug, “Who am I to deny them the opportunity to read on such things.  It would make me no better than some others who seek to press their beliefs on those around them.”

 

“But it’s utter chocobo shite,” Isterre retorted and rolled his head to gaze in Dacien’s direction, “And you know you don’t believe in it any more than I do.”

 

Dacien chuckled and shook his head, “Ah now that my friend I cannot entirely agree with.  There is much and more that we cannot explain even just yet in the world.  Such things may bear the answer or be the fantasies and tall tales of those who wish for some greater power in their life.”

 

“Who are we to judge,” Dacien shrugged as he moved closer, booted heels echoing with each step on the floor, “Perhaps it is a mix of both, the prayers and beliefs of man and the presence of such things.  We know others exist after all…”

 

A pointed look was thrown Isterre’s way with a brightly glowing gaze, “We are very intimately aware that such other things exist. You more than myself in some regards.”

 

Dacien set the books in his hand down on the stack Isterre still had to work through as he shook his head slightly, “And my beliefs or lack thereof are not something to concern yourself with at present.  Let them think what they want and put their faith where they will.”

 

Isterre slid the last book in his hands into it’s spot on the shelf before he turned to look properly at Dacien.  Arms crossed he gave the other elezen a skeptical look, “Even if that knowledge isn’t accurate and only feeds their misbeliefs? I mean we had a war raging for how long based on lies and misinformation perpetuated by a church of one of the twelve....”

 

Dacien frowned at that before he sighed and turquoise eyes slid shut.  The aether pulled around him, shifting ever so slightly as his normal form bled into being.  The horns he so carefully hid.  The dark pointed tips of his ears. Dark claws at the end of each pale finger.  Darkened lips and ever present fangs did not change but as those eyes slid open the glow in them was bright and entrancing.  Isterre felt a shiver creep down his spine as something settled in his gut.  A mix of emotions that he was rather afraid to name though fear and apprehension certainly ranked in there.  A strange sort of desire as well but that was shoved aside as Dacien began to speak.

 

“Those misbeliefs at times get people through the day, through the ordeals they face.  Some use it as a crutch for far too long though,” he purred the odd duality in his voice giving a strange echo as he spoke, “They let it define them they let it mold them.  They enjoy that boot of falsehoods and lies planted firmly at their throat.  Buried in their back as they lay face down in the muck and filth and wait for their deity to deliver them.  While others seek to place their own deeds at the feet of their god.”

 

As he talked he prowled ever closer to Isterre, closing the distance until the other man was practically pressed against the bookshelf he had been restocking while Dacien was but ilms away.

 

“They make their choices as we made ours,” he offered lowly, leaning in closer to Isterre, his face beside the other man’s cheek, “And as do we, they live with the consequences.  Let them have their books on such things, their beliefs to tuck them to bed at night.”

 

He lingered there for a moment, inhaling deeply and giving a quiet exhale before he pulled back, “Belief is a very strange thing indeed Isterre.”

 

The words were a quiet whisper meant only for the other man’s ears as Dacien stepped back another step.  Turquoise dimmed as eyes closed and once more the ‘proper’ features covered him.  Gone were the claws and horns, his eyes a dim glow that could be passed as a trick of the light.  Those lips however ever stayed darkened and his fangs ever present as he smirked at the other man, “I’ll go make us a pot of tea while you finish putting these away.”

The duality gone from his voice Dacien walked off, steps strangely quiet despite the earlier click of heels on wood.  Isterre leaned back against the shelf, heart racing as an array of things tore through him.  He slid down to sit on the floor and leaned his head back, eyes closed once he was sure Dacien had left.  Despite the silence with which he’d moved he could no longer feel that tangible aether so near to his own.  While he certainly did not regret coming to know and work for the noble he found himself questioning just what he where his thoughts lay on his benevolent employer.


	5. Self-editing - Metamorphosis

“Fuck.”

 

It was the first word that escaped him and came to mind as he stared at himself in the mirror.  After a few days of rest in bed he’d finally been able to crawl from the sheets.  Though whether that assessment was in regards to the mess he was of dried blood, tangled hair and smudged ink or the new additions to his appearance was unknown.  Pale hands now sporting dark claws reached forward and grasped the sides of the sink as he leaned forward to look closer at the mirror.  He wanted to pinch himself and hope this was a dream he could wake from but deep in his heart he knew that was not the case.  A bitter chuckle slipped free as his grip tightened.  He had yet to even see downstairs where it had happened but this was enough to speak volumes.  This and the small creature that had taken to sitting atop the headboard as if guarding him.

 

His forehead pressed against the cold glass, the tiny click of horns as they touched eliciting another bitter snort from him.  He’d done it this time.  He had made a terrible mistake and yet strangely enough he suspected it had worked out more in his favor than it should have.   That thought was one Dacien was unsure if it left him relieved or nervous.  He pushed those thoughts aside and focused instead on the pressing issue at the moment.  Formerly verdigris orbs opened to see that almost strange appearance staring back at him.  Now a liquid turquoise, bright and glowing brightly in the dim bathroom light he felt almost entranced by his eyes. They stood out so much now against his pale skin and dark hair, dark hair now graced with dark wine colored highlights.  

 

_ So dark.  _

 

That thought pulled his attention to his lips, now dark and almost black.  His lips parted as he examined them, curiosity was taking over now as he slid his tongue out.  They felt no different so that was good, but that did little to alleviate all his concerns especially when his tongue found a sharp point.  

 

Fangs.  Truly fangs. Wilder and stranger this became as he opened wider to see the sharp points on either side.  The thought crept in that on All Saints’ Wake he could merely go as himself and win the best costume contest.  That drew a short bitter laugh from him however the thought that followed sobered him as those claws accidently scratched at his own cheek.

 

‘How would he go out into the world like this.’

 

Another curse slipped past those now black lips as he leaned forward once more to rest his head against the cool glass.  The lips and fangs were easy enough he supposed.  Claim makeup and watch how widely he opened his mouth when he spoke.  It would take practice but it was doable.  The nails..no claws, he corrected himself, could be painted surely.  A flesh color of some variety had to exist or be easily made.  Women had such things already it was a simple task of obtaining some.  That still left the problem of his ears, eyes and horns.  Those were not so easily disguised.  A hat would cover his ears, but the horns and glowing eyes were another issue entirely.  Even his nicest top hat would not fit over them likely and hide their shape.

 

That would take something more and he knew the forthcoming days would be spent sequestered in his books.  With a sigh he heaved himself up from his hunched position and moved over to begin running a bath.  Before all else he would get the blood off and assess the rest of his state.  Perhaps then he could feel a little closer to human still.  His aether tingled in his body as that clawed hand twisted old metal knobs on the tub.  It was his, and he could find his own there, but there was something else.  Something now intimately intertwined with his own.  Something darker.

 

Red water filled the tub as he climbed out and dried off.  Few cuts and scrapes were on him, though it did little to explain the large quantity of blood.  Still though he tended his wounds and then brushed his hair and redressed in clean clothes.  The old were set aside though he suspected no bit of scrubbing would fix them.  Eyes were on him then and he looked across the room.  Perched on the small desk in his room sat that creature, watching him fixedly.

 

_ ‘You’re looking better.’ _

 

The strange voice came from that creature, a collection of skrees and chirps that somehow he could understand.  Turquoise eyes widened as he looked at it in surprise.

 

_ ‘A benefit of the pact we now share,’ _ it offered as explanation as it shifted slightly, canting that tiny lizard like head to the side to better regard him,  _ ‘One of the many in fact.’ _

 

“I see,” he murmured and despite better judgement strode forward toward the desk.  He pulled out the chair and settled into it as he took in the details of the small creature.  It looked like a lizard, small though, almost no bigger than his forearm.  Dark scales, almost black with purple lines covered its’ body, tiny ridges and spikes in various spots.

 

“You’re little larger than a mouse,” Dacien murmured as he met those glowing eyes, turquoise and matching his own now, “What am I to call you?”

 

The creature laughed, at least Dacien took it as a laugh before that strange voice again,  _ ‘Mouse will do.  It is not my real name but let us save that for a later talk.  For now I would discuss other matters.’ _

 

Dacien nodded and for the rest of that afternoon the two discussed numerous things before the small creature helped him find the few tomes present that may help with his current dilemma.  Dacien knew it would not be enough and with much apprehension penned small note for his cousin.  

 

_ ‘Dearest Evie, Please come to the shop as soon as you are able. Not to cause undue worry but it is urgent and bring no one else.   With Love, Dacien’ _

 

He left it addressed in the post box outside the shop as he settled back into trying to find something to fix this problem.  He would have preferred to deliver it to the courier himself but the moogle was some ways away and that meant walking the full length of the busiest shopping district in the city.  Not something he could do currently unless he wished to clothe himself fully and wear shaded spectacles.  A snort followed at the mental image.  That would no doubt be more suspicious than going out as he was.  If he could never show his face again it would prove most problematic indeed.  No, for now he had done all he could it was a waiting game til they picked up his letter and delivered it to her.  Dacien had no doubt she would hurry to his side, the two had ever been close even before the loss of Cisent. Now all he could do was wait, and do his own digging in the meantime.


	6. Prank - Twisted Every Way

She had received the letter around lunch and immediately set her fork down mid meal.  Before the servant could even inquire what was wrong and if there was something wrong with her food she’d already given orders.

 

“Prepare transportation to the city and an overnight bag, with two days worth of clothing.”

 

“Miss?” the servant asked curiously as she scrambled to follow the young woman now moving from the room as if someone’s life was directly in danger if she did not move swiftly enough.  Evie made her way through the home, letter still clutched in hand, quickly to her room and began to gather her traveling coat and gloves.  Both were tossed atop the large bed as the flustered servant did as she was told, first alerting another to ready the carriage before setting about packing the young mistress’ suitcases.

 

“Is aught amiss milady?” she asked as another dress was folded carefully and set inside.

 

“Nothing that anyone save myself needs worry about,” she retorted as she kicked off the casual shoes she had worn about the house that day and began pulling on her knee high travelling boots.  Fingers deftly laced them up, drawing the strings tight as the aged leather creaked ever so slightly.  Most girls would have waited for the maid to do it but Evie had no time to spare nor had she ever been one to be waited on entirely.  Right now Dacien needed her and she would fly to his side.  Ever had the two been there for one another more so after Cisent’s passing.

 

The thicker coat was grabbed as she bounced up off the bed to stand, the tiny boot heels clicking on the bare wood as she walked to the mirror.  One arm then the other and soon enough she was working her way through buttons as the maid finished the latches on her two travelling bags.  The coachman arrived as she pulled on the leather gloves and quickly took the bags downstairs while her maid moved to fuss over her and help arrange her scarf.

 

“I’ll be fine.  Should anyone call upon me while I am away direct any letters to the main house in Ishgard,” she ordered as she swatted the hands away gently, “I need to be off now.  See to things here.”

 

Before the maid could do little more than dip her head and curtsey Evie was gone and the woman wondered just what the hells had been in that letter.  Her mistress had not even left it that she could see.  All she could do was wait for her return.

 

~~~~~~

 

The ride to Ishgard and into the city was uneventful and every moment was spent with her worrying over just what had transpired.  Dacien never wrote such things unless something was truly wrong.  Many a time she had come to visit in the city since he took up his apprenticeship at that bookshop and the older man who owned it had always been welcoming.   She could not place his name now but that thought was cast aside.

 

Soon enough she found herself opening that dark metal handle and entering into the dimly lit shop.  Something felt off immediately and her aether gave a shudder.  It was dark, darker than normal.  Verdigris orbs widened as she realized the shutters were closed on even the large front window.  It looked as if the store was closed and yet the door had been open to admit her.  Apprehension filled her yet she moved inside and shut the door behind her.

 

“Hello?” she called out, noting the candles on the counter burning lowly, “Is anyone here? Dacien?”

 

Something felt off, her aether itched almost as she moved further in and she swore she felt eyes following her every move.

 

“I’ve come per your letter cousin,” she tried again, “If this is a prank of yours it is not in the least funny.”

 

Booted heels echoed in the odd stillness of the shop as she moved to the back.  Still nothing and she began to wonder.  Warily she climbed the spiral staircase at the back.  She knew the topmost floor was the living quarters and perhaps they were up there.  As she passed the first upper level she felt something move.  Something shifted the aether around her and she jerked her head around as she halted on the landing.  While still studying she knew enough about magic to know what it felt like and her nerves lit on fire.  One hand gathered her skirts and she steeled herself before hurrying up the stairs faster now, but still trying to remain calm.

  
“Dacien,” she called out again as finally she emerged on the upper most level, where the living quarters were.  Movement from the hallway caught her hearing and she hesitated.  A moment later a muffled voice reached her.

 

“Evie? Is that you?” he called out from where he had hidden himself.

 

“Of course Dacien,” she replied and made her way to the sound of his voice, the small but cozy sitting room was bare before her, no candles lit but only the fireplace.  The lighting, or lack thereof left her unnerved again as once more she felt a shift in the air around her.

 

“Dacien?” she called out, quieter this time, “Where are you? I thought you were here but I was mistaken?”

 

She looked around before she heard movement and saw a dark form, shrouded in the farthest and darkest corner move.  She watched before she called out again, slightly uncertain, “Dacien?”

 

One step then another took her toward the figure as she felt the air shift more the closer she got.  The shrouded figure flinched away as she neared, keeping it’s head down and refusing to look up at her.  Scarves upon robes it was as if there was no man, but merely a walking pile of dark fabric.

  
“Why are you so covered up? What has happened?” Evie pressed as one pale hand reached out to touch the fabric and pull it away.

  
“Wait,” he called out, flinching away before she could, “Before you do I would warn you.  It is… not what you might expect.”

 

There was something odd about his voice, and she realized it was not merely that it was muffled.  It was echoing slightly.  Concern filled her.  If this was a prank it was cleverly conceived and she would give him appropriate credit but it was wearing thin.

 

“Just tell me what is wrong?  What has happened?”, she said as she reached forward and ignored his flinch away this time.  Layer upon layer was taken off before she felt herself freeze.  The fabric hood in her hands fell back and away revealing all.  Those glowing eyes, the darkened ears, those lips and the horns atop his head, curving gracefully.

 

“Oh Dacien,” she whispered as she looked at him.  Her heart pounded in her chest fear threatening to take hold and yet, this was no monster.  This was him, her cousin.

 

“It’s no prank Evie...I almost wish it were,” he whispered as he looked anywhere but her face, afraid to see the fear and rejection there, “I..I need your help. Please.”

 

He feared for a moment that he would hear her retreat from the room.  There was a lot that had happened to the two over the years and yet nothing was like this.  The darkness in the corners of the room teemed and shifted and he closed those glowing eyes waiting to hear her flee.  Footsteps echoed in the room once more and his heart fell til he felt arms around him.  Her smaller frame against his as she pulled him close, one hand stroking his hair.

 

“Of course,” she whispered as she tried to calm her own racing heart, “Whatever happens I am always here for you.  As you have always been there for me.”

 

His own arms hesitantly came up to encircle her and she gave a quiet sigh.  He held her close and despite the darkness moving, the changes to him, the strange aether surrounding her she knew it was him.  This was Dacien and always would be.


	7. Identification - What Lies Beneath

He could feel it, something familiar licking at his senses.  At his very aether.  Rinalys had gone deeper into the ruins, checking ahead and he had stayed behind to make notes of the ancient script on the wall.  Leather clung to his body, creaking slightly as he shifted.  Turquoise gleamed in the dark, brightly as he turned his head.  There was no reason to feel concern here, no worry or need to hide such things with no living beings save monsters present.  However something was out there.  Something in the dark shifting, it left him on edge.  The ledger and pen were stowed carefully and safely in the satchel that hung at his hip.  One hand reached for the focus at one hip while the other curved around the hilt of his sword.

 

He shifted quietly, muffling his movements as best he could while he reached out with his magic.  What was it and where was it.  It was certainly coated in a layer of void magic, that much he could say with certainty.  That magic licked and caressed at his own void touched state.  He felt it spike from his left, down a dark corridor and with no hesitation shot off in that direction.  That strange and yet similar aether called to his own and caution was thrown aside.  Sword out and at the ready in his right hand, the focus hovering above his left the beginnings of a spell crept forward.  

 

It was a mad chase as he followed that feeling down corridors and through rubble filled rooms.  He was far from where he’d started now, far from where he and Rinalys had parted ways and yet he focused on that feeling.  It pressed back at him as he rounded a corner into a room filled with debris and destruction.  Long ago it seemed part had collapsed and made a small mini cave in the room yet he could see no other place where it led.  It was strong here, palpatable really as he hung in the doorway.  The room seemed entirely a dead end and he knew it had to be here.  Wariness and caution slid to the forefront of his mind as he remained in the doorway, glowing turquoise searching the room.  Ancient runes scribed along walls were joined with something more fresh across the room.  He could see no outward traps and that was equal parts relieving and alarming.  Nothing along the bare stone ceiling, no that small caved in area in the far corner called to him and one foot in front of the other he approached slowly.

 

He heard it and felt it as he neared, another spike of aether as movement from that pile of rubble reached his ears. Whatever it was that he had felt, that he had followed, was in there.  Cautiously he circled closer seeing the dust disrupted and what looked like a man sized hole.  Was it a shelter of some kind for whatever had drawn him here?  Curiosity piqued Dacien shifted closer, ensuring he moved as quietly as he could.  He gave another nudge with his aether, gentler this time and non threatening.  The response was immediate and he knew whatever it was was hidden in that rock shelter.

 

“Come out,” he called gently, pausing a safe distance away, “I’m not going to hurt you unless you attack me.”

 

A shift, actual movement again this time, led him to resheath his weapon and again offer, “I only wish to talk.”

 

Mouse had stayed behind in Ishgard to watch the shop and he found himself suddenly missing the small creature’s presence.  It had been decidedly safer to leave him with Evie as she tended the shop in Dacien’s absence with the unrest in the city but now the elezen felt he would give almost anything for the small creature’s insight and help.  Silence hung still over the room before he took a very intentional step back.  A responding shift from the darkness as he crouched trying to get a better look in the dark recesses.  A gleam caught his eye, drawing turquoise orbs wider.  Carefully he crept closer, crouched like that as he neared.  The luminous purple from the dark shrank back and as he closed the distance and filled the small entryway he saw it indeed was a shelter and before him cowering like an almost feral animal an elezen man.  An elezen man sporting a very distinct aether signature and one glowing violet orb.

 

Turquoise widened and he halted, recognition assailing him as that same void magic called to him like an old friend.  This man, he had seen the same… he had touched it too.   Dacien saw himself there for a moment, what he could have been.  Had luck not been on his side, had the fortunate misfortune of his mentor trying to stop him not happened.  It felt heavy on his heart and he swallowed thickly.  His words were quiet, one hand slowly reaching out, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

He couldn’t help but see himself, or what he could have been.  It was a moment he wouldn’t forget as he watched the man eye him warily, that one eye a glowing liquid purple.  Dacien waited and watched, not pressing the advance.  No doubt Rinalys would be blowing up his linkpearl any moment when she couldn’t find him but for now the only things that mattered were this man and convincing him to talk.

 

~~~

 

The stranger was blocking his way out.  Frustration grew in Isterre as that darkly clad man blocked the small crawlway into his shelter.  He’d ended up here, his thirst for magic and knowledge bringing him in search of artefacts.  He’d found them all right.  He’d found them and so much more.  He’d slid down the rabbit hole farther than he wanted and without obtaining what he truly sought.  Leaving himself unable to return home.  He’d tried once and it had almost spelled his end. They’d called him a monster when they saw him.  The scar on his face had been a reminder from his younger brother to never show himself again.  So he had fled, fled back to where he’d made his mistakes.  Back to where he’d made his bed and planned to lie in it til he died.

 

Now though… What he saw in this man before him.  He carried himself differently.  He carried himself proudly and Isterre could feel the power emanating from him.  He could feel the same energy roll off him, commanding and making his own curl to bend to it.  A shiver tore down his spine and he shrunk further back as he watched that outstretched hand warily.  Something called to him, something deep down told him that this was his chance.  Was it how that leather clad man looked at him?  That look that said he understood more than he let on.  Was it the similar energy flowing from him?  Energy that spoke volumes about his own experiences.  Or those glowing eyes, so alike his own that he couldn’t help but be entranced by them.

 

He crept closer after another offer that the man meant no harm.  Mismatched eyes slid shut and Isterre tried to reach out, he tried to feel if the man was a threat or not.  Matching void tainted aether met his own and with a shuddering sigh he slipped forward slightly again.  Closer, one hand of his own raised shakily to that gloved one.  Something told him to trust him, something deep inside saw everything he wanted to be there before him.  Maybe he could help him.  Maybe he wouldn’t shun him or call him a monster.  After all they were the same weren’t they?

 

“My name is Dacien,” the other elezen offered.  The fact he didn’t press or push.  The fact he didn’t immediately denounce Isterre struck a chord with him.  That hand, dirty and bruised found the leather clad one and grasped it lightly.

 

“Isterre...Valenthar.”

 

A smile, those darkened lips smiled at him and for once a slight hope took root.  Maybe things were looking up finally.  Maybe he had found someone who understood.  


	8. Broken Leaf - Tough Love

He stood still, almost as if a statue, tiny hands fisted into the lace trimming the sleeves of his coat.  Self preservation had long ago kicked in when his father had burst into the room abruptly.  Said man now pacing before the young boy, hands twitching more with each passing moment.  Dacien knew these moments well.  Almant was displeased about something and it was best to stay as far out of reach and under the radar as possible.  Usually something he could do with a clever hiding place though today he had not been so lucky.

 

“Such a disappointment...Why can’t you be useful and be like your brother,” Almant bit out, his stride long as each heavy footfall echoed the rage coursing through him.  He’d been asked that afternoon during a card session with some other lords of his second son.  Of why he was not already in training for knighthood like the other boys, like his own brother.  Almant felt mocked, he felt insulted and humiliated and that rage and swirl of emotions was now being brought full to bear on Dacien.

 

“No more nonsense, you’ll start training with a proper weapon tomorrow,” Almant growled as he stopped to loom over Dacien.  The small boy, not even into his teenage years, tensed.  Instinct told him to pull back, to shrink back against the dresser and bed not far behind him.  He knew though the punishment would be so far worse if he did.  On and on Almant railed at him, anger growing until he paused, that dangerous question left hanging in the air.

 

“Do you understand?”

 

Dacien certainly understood what his father wanted, there was little doubt with how the man spoke, and yet it was impossible.  He held no desire or skill with lances or swords and shields.  The last time when Almant had thrown Dacien against Lucioux to begin sparring had been a veritable disaster and was not something he wanted to repeat.  He swallowed thickly, hands clenching once to steady himself as he replied, “I do Father...however I’m not skilled with such things.”

 

In hindsight he realized that perhaps he should have not said anything past agreeing he understood.  However what was done was done and silence reigned over the room for a moment til the tiniest of snarls left Almant’s mouth.  Verdigris opened and then snapped shut as he was sent tumbling, pain bursting through his vision and the side of his face.  The quiet of the room had been torn asunder as that hand met with Dacien’s cheek and the sound as he landed against the bedside table.  He steadied his breathing, fighting to keep the tears in check as pain throbbed throughout reddened flesh.  A lesson he’d also learned was not to let Almant see such things, weaknesses he called them.

 

“You will become skilled in them,” Almant stated, an unnerving calmness despite the anger that contorted his face. It was if he were stating a fact and in his mind likely he thought he was.  He moved over to the nightstand where Dacien now stood, that hand raising again and the barest flinch slipped free from the boy.  Instead of him however that hand came crashing down on the books and items on the nightstand.  One swipe taking everything off including the small pot that held a gift Evie had given them when last he visited her. 

 

“No,” he uttered quietly.  Verdigris orbs widened as he watched the pot shatter and the plant and books end up in a heap of broken glass, dirt and bent leaves.  He didn’t dare move to pick anything up yet as he saw the look Almant gave him before the man turned and stalked from the room, door slammed behind him.  Fear held him in place even after he heard the footsteps stalk from his room.  After there seemed no sign of him returning those tears slid free, quiet sobs shaking him as he immediately crouched and began to straighten the mess.  Books were picked up off the pile and dusted and set aside.  He paused as the plant was revealed.  The few buds had broken off and it looked a lost cause.  Broken and bent he still gently picked it up and looked around for something to serve as a pot.  A small decorative bowl on the dresser caught his eye and was made into a makeshift pot for the night.  Fear however still coursed through him and all of the books he had were carefully stowed into the secret crawlspace in his room.  Something even his father and brother did not know about.  It was where he hid on more than one occasion.  The plant however he left out, it would need more attention and care in the morning.  He hoped Nirault would be able to help him save it.

 

Sword lessons began the next day, thankfully with an instructor Adrienne his mother had been able to acquire.  He was less harsh on the boy though no less concerned when he saw the bruise blossoming on Dacien’s face despite it seemed attempts to hide it with makeup.  As they progressed though the weeks it was apparent that the heavier weapons were not his forte.  He struggled with the shield and while his movements were quick there was a missing strength behind them.  It was as he watched Dacien go through the paces one day that it hit him and he realized what would work for the boy.  It would not be exactly as his father wanted but he had not specified the type of sword exactly and this way the boy could actually show progress.  He knew frustration and a lack of desire to even do this was present, perhaps this would at least help with one of the two if not both. 

 

That night Dacien sat in his room looking at the small plant.  Nirault had not been sure it was salvageable and yet here it was, though still battered and broken it was growing back.  Seemingly stronger than before.  His cheek had healed though muscles all over ached as he went through the hell that was practice sessions.  His instructor had mentioned a new weapon for him to try at their next meeting, something he might find easier and he dreaded it still.  What choice did he have though. At the very least he could give it a shot too and fail at it also.  How many more he wondered before his father would see that swords and spears were not for him.  The boy sighed and climbed into bed.

 

The next morning a small case was presented to him by his instructor, a grin on the man’s face as he took in Dacien’s confusion.  He waited til it was opened and the dark haired boy looked at him once more, “It’s a type of sword used for something referred to as fencing.”

 

“It’s something I think will better suit you and your abilities,” he continued to explain as carefully Dacien carefully grasped at the hilt and pulled it free.  It wasn’t heavy like the other weapons, in fact the weight felt strangely comfortable to him as he looked it over.  He wondered for a moment what his father would say.  No doubt anger and irritation.  That caused a flicker of concern to course through him as he recalled that night again.  That was shoved aside though as he thought of the plant.  It had grown back.  It had been broken and was growing back stronger than before.  He would do the same.  Even though he had no intentions of doing as his father bid he would do this, he would grow stronger and then never feel that flicker of fear again.  Resolve darkened verdigris orbs as they fell to his instructor and Dacien gave a determined smile.

 

He would not cower before anyone again.


	9. Shadows - Lingering Doubts

It was oddly quiet, something he had grown unused to.  Usually someone was around most days whether servant or employee and to have it be just himself was strange.  He enjoyed the brief respite from interruptions, it allowed him a chance to catch up on reading and perhaps even research.  It was as he’d just started the third chapter of the leather bound tome in his hands that he heard it.

 

_ ‘How appropriate, all by yourself.’  _

 

It was a whisper that barely touched his hearing and yet the words were clear as day.  A dark brow rose as he marked his place and set the large book aside.  Mouse’s small head rose slightly at Dacien’s movement but he seemed otherwise unbothered.  Had he not heard it?  Dacien shook his head slightly before leaning back once more on the sofa before the fire.  The voidsent snuggled back down, a strangely contented chittering purr emerging as he dozed back off.  The book was retrieved and opened and once more he slid into the words before him.  

 

_ ‘It’s for the best really...look how tainted you are.  You’d sully anything you touch.’ _

 

He jerked, drawing Mouse’s attention as the voidsent watched him warily.  The voice, that strange whisper had seemingly been right behind him, right in his ear.  Clawed fingers tightened around the leather book as he set it aside and stood.  He reached out with his aether as glowing turquoise scoured the room.  Nothing.  There was no one there.  Mouse seemed wholly unbothered, more curious at the man’s response.  A pale hand came up to rub his eyes, before sliding back through long hair.  Was he tired?  Perhaps he should make a cup of tea and light some incense to clear his thoughts.  Carefully he moved out of the sitting room toward the kitchen down the hall.  He’d opted to stay at the shop that night after closing up instead of returning to the manor.  The weather outside had taken a turn for the worst and it made more sense.  So he and Mouse had settled in, most of the other voidsent dozing in the sublevels if they hadn’t taken up residence in the manor’s vast basements.

 

The motions were familiar as he set about gathering the water into the kettle and removing a glass from the cabinet.  Silence covered the room save his movements and soon enough the kettle was on to heat.  He reached up for the tea leaves, deciding on the special blend Evie had given him not long ago that she had found while in Ul’dah on business.  As his hand reached the container he heard it again.

 

_ ‘You don’t deserve her. A monster like you tying her down…’ _

 

He whirled around, fists clenched as he scoured the room.  Once more, nothing was there.  No one present save himself and nothing tickling at his senses.  He frowned deeply, what was this exactly.  Was he going mad?  He took a deep, steadying breath as he leaned against the counter.  

 

“I’ve been working too hard,” he murmured quietly before he turned and retrieved the tea.  The cannister was set down and he rested against the counter once more.  The water would take time to boil and as he thought about it a snack would maybe help.  Idly he wondered if he was perhaps not eating enough and that was leading to these imagined voices.  A snack, he decided, wasn’t a bad idea.  Simple things gathered from around the kitchen were arranged on a tray.  Some fruit, a bit of bread and a bit of cheese from the cold storage.  Nothing more was heard as he finished his meal and he made his way back toward the parlor with the tray in hand.  Mouse was still asleep on the nearby chair and after settling the try on the coffee table he set about lighting some incense.  

 

The fire crackled slightly as he added another log before sitting down again.  A quiet sigh left him as he took up the tea carefully in hand and took a sip.  Just as good as he remembered and soothing to his frayed nerves.  He set it back down and made to pick up the knife on the tray as it came again.

 

_ ‘A beast playing at being human...tainting all the lives it touches and slowly destroying them.’ _

 

He stiffened, once more looking around though he knew he’d find nothing.  A thought occurred to him though and he stood quickly.  Booted feet carried him down through the floors of the building til he was at that locked bookcase.  One hand pressed the marks etched in wood and the glow lit the darkness as the wards gave way.  Down and down he crept, the shadows flickering around him unlike how they normally reacted.  This wasn’t the voidsent.  No this was something else and the closer he got the more he could feel it.  Feel the tangible malice. 

 

The lowest level sprawled before him as he stepped from the stairs and over to a thick door.  A series of wards held it and one by one he undid them til the door sat opened before him.  A cursory glance of the room told him nothing was amiss.  No, in fact everything was where it should be and yet it was here.  He reached out with his aether until he pinpointed it.  The newest addition to his collection.  He made his way over, a frown on his face.

 

“Well well… you apparently are more than I anticipated,” he murmured to himself as he looked at the warded box before him, “And apparently do not play well with others.”

 

No voice answered him instead a shift in the shadows, as if a mocking gesture.  Pale hands grasped the box carefully as he prepared to weave another set of wards and enchantments on it.  Then it would move to a more secluded spot as being around the other artefacts had only ended poorly.  Before he could begin the voice called again, this time from almost right beside his ear.

 

_ ‘It’s your fault they’re dead you know… If they hadn’t cared about you so much they would still be alive.  Their blood is on your hands.’ _

 

His grip tightened and his jaw clenched and before another utterance could come he began to weave the magics to further contain it.  The shadows ebbed back and away, things sliding closer to normal and he moved out from the room box still in hand before recasting the wards on the door.  Turquoise eyes glared at that box, sitting so innocently in his hands before he set it in one of the private vaults in the wall.  This could not be allowed to be around the other objects and with less protections that much was certain.  As his hand rested on the small door to the safe he hesitated.  He said nothing as he closed the door and wove more protective magic to keep it contained.  That hand lingered for a moment however after he was done.  His head dipped down and a quiet sigh left him as he whispered.

 

“I know.”


	10. Linkpearl - Digging Too Deep

“Why on earth do we even need this?”  Isterre muttered as he held the small object in the palm of his hand.  The tiny bead seemed so pointless as he looked at Dacien.  Rinalys had already moved off into the ruins ahead, her aim to dismantle any traps or monsters that might be lurking.  Dacien frowned slightly as he watched Isterre poke at the small object with a finger.

 

“It’s a safety precaution,” he explained, “As much as for ease of relaying what we find if we are forced to split up.”

 

Isterre gave him a disbelieving stare and shook his head, “You and I have other methods… Much easier than one of these.”

 

“True enough,” Dacien agreed as he activated his own before gesturing for Isterre to do the same, “However Rinalys does not and so we use them.”

 

His tone, while not harsh gave no room for disagreement.  With a sigh and a slight grumble Isterre did as he was bid before the two began to work their way through the ruins.  Occasional relays from Rinalys warned them of dangers, or a carcass to avoid in the dark.  Eventually the path diverged however.  The two shared a look before each went a separate way.  While the branch Isterre took stretched upward, Dacien’s led farther below.  Lamps lined the walls intermittently and through some strange magic still cast light upon the corridors.  Dust and debris lined the way, broken walls bearing ornate pictures that once had been bright and colorful.  Now however due to time and neglect they sat crumbling and cracked.  Nothing called to his senses however.  No hint of what they were in search of and no flicker of aether even from Isterre.  That concerned him.  He couldn’t feel the other void touched man and he gave a cursory check over the linkpearl.  

 

Both answered and he shook his head to clear it.  Something didn’t feel right and yet he pressed on, chalking it up to nerves.  It was the first proper expedition Isterre had joined him for and he worried ever so slightly.  Too many possibilities, not all pleasant had crept to mind and yet he had agreed to bring him anyway.  The air grew chill, dust particles fluttering about as he moved.  That’s when he felt it. Eyes.  Eyes following his movements.  His aether reached out and tried to gauge what was there.  Friend, foe, what exactly was it. The response was muddy, a strange dampened feeling and it caused him concern.  His movements halted as he came upon a large open room in better repair than the rest of the area.

 

‘That’s mildly suspicious,’ He thought to himself as he tilted his head slightly.  Runes etched along the door’s entry way and quickly he worked to make sense of them.  Dacien frowned as he gathered that at least part of their function was to limit magic use.  A shiver tore up his spine as he made out bits of the rest.  He moved to take a step back only to hear it, the sound of something moving against stone.  He bit back a curse as he heard the thump behind him.  The breeze cast by the thing landing brushed hair and robe forward and he felt that prickle of fear as he moved to turn and face the thing.  Hand on the hilt of his rapier and the other on his focus he drew them and turned, turquoise orbs widening as he took in the sight of it.

 

“Well fuck,” he muttered as it launched forward on its’ multple legs.

 

~~~~~

 

It had been quiet, no word since his earlier check and Isterre was feeling unnerved.  Something was off in these ruins.  Something wasn’t right.  Nothing he’d seen had mentioned anything related to the artefact they were supposed to be finding.  He’d said as much to Rinalys when he met back up with her before they waited, not entirely patiently, for word from Dacien.  None came after a time and concern grew, more so when neither could reach him via the linkpearl.  He grumbled and complained for a moment longer til finally he stood.

 

“This whole thing was a goose chase, there’s nothing here,” Isterre muttered as he moved toward where Dacien had gone when they parted ways, “I’m going to go find him.  Stay here and keep the linkpearl on.  Maybe he’s just playing some prank… or gotten so deep in reading that he’s forgotten to answer.”

 

With nothing more said he stalked off.  Deeper and deeper he went, following the footprints in the dirt and dust he could still see.  Before long he rounded a corner and paused.  A large room sat at the other side of the open area, in fine repair.  What concerned him though was the significant puddle of blood and the two separate paths it moved off in.  Immediately he flew into motion.  Eyes cast around as he went to see what had happened and where Dacien was.  The one trail led around the corner into the room and a glance revealed not his employer but a large monster bearing multiple legs and parts of a human amongst other curious additions.  It was decidedly dead, the marks of magic and gouges all over it.  Still though that didn’t answer the question of where Dacien was.  Isterre tried again, through the linkpearl to reach him and as he sent the message through he heard the chime quietly go off.  Booted feet tore through the dust as they followed that second path of blood.  Around fallen debris and in a dark corner sat a crumpled form, clearly unconscious and severely wounded.  

 

“Shit,” the purple haired man cursed as he slid to a stop beside that fallen form.  Shallow breaths still came from him and Isterre wished he was better with healing magic.  A potion was drawn from the satchel at his side as he called through the tiny pearl,”Rinalys, we have an issue.  Get down here and help me with him.”

 

He sighed as he made to pry the man’s mouth open and get as much of the healing tonic down as he could, “So much for the godsdamned pearls preventing this…”


	11. Slap - Healing Touch

The cushions were comfortable around him, though they only did so much to ease the soreness.  The artefact he’d sought had indeed been there, but not in the way he’d expected.  The thing that had come down had held it, inside its’ chest.  That wouldn’t have truly been so difficult if not for the fact that the ruins in that part were made to weaken casters and while his skills with a sword were not the worst he still favored the more magical skills.  A quiet sigh left him as he shifted slightly in bed trying to reach for the book on the nightstand.  They’d brought him back and gotten him patched up a few days ago and now he lay in bed til the worse wounds would heal. Just as his hand reached the book, with no shortage of soreness, he heard the door open.

  
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

 

He paused immediately and turned his head to see Evie there in the doorway, a great vase of flowers in her hands.  The flowers did little though to hide the mix of emotions on her face.  Irritation was clear, and present even in her tone.  However there was worry too, and he felt a pang of guilt.

 

“Evie,” he offered quietly, hand moving from the book to beckon her in.  She hesitated for a moment before stepping in and situating the vase on the nightstand.  It seemed as if the woman was entirely composed as she settled it and arranged it.  Dacien knew all too well though that she was far from all right.  That became evident when that hand which had just rearranged some of the greenery reached out and met his cheek harshly.

 

“What were you thinking?  You could have been more seriously hurt!  You could have been killed even,” she railed on, tears creeping up into her eyes as she stood before him.  She shook slightly and he felt a rush of guilt.  Her hand raised again and his eyes closed, waiting for the second strike to hit.  None came and before he could open those turquoise orbs he felt her collapse on him, arms wound around him and holding him tight.

 

She shook in his arms as she clung to him desperately, shoulders moving with each quiet sob, “What am I to do if something happens to you?  You aren’t invincible…I cannot lose you as well.”

 

He ignored the pain and brought his arms up to wrap around her, holding her close.  One hand brushed her hair while the other rubbed her back gently, “Forgive me Evie.  I didn’t mean to worry you.  It was a miscalculation on my part.”

 

“You were reckless,” she countered, her voice muffled from where her face was buried in his chest.

 

He sighed and gave a slight nod, “I was.  Forgive me.  I am fine though and in time will be healed with no lingering effects.”

 

“Only because they found you and got you help,” she added as she pulled herself further onto the bed, clinging to him desperately, “They’re worried too.  Isterre has barely slept between watching you through the first days and trying to learn how to make tonics and salves to help you.”

 

“Truly?” he asked as he gave another sigh, “I did not mean to worry you...or them.”

 

Silence settled over the two as she held to him.  Her tears stopped after a bit and yet she stayed holding onto him tightly.  He felt her shift slightly and loosened his hold as she pulled back just enough to look at him.  Verdigris, the same color his own eyes once were, met the liquid turquoise they now were.

 

“Please be more careful in the future,” Evie whispered, “I know I can never stop you from doing such things but be careful.  You’re all I have left Dacien and I could not bear to lose you as well.”

 

He pulled her into another hug despite the pain of his wounds and as she returned the gesture he whispered, “You have my word Evie.”


	12. Mercy vs Justice - The Truth Sets You Free

Paper sat strewn about his desk as he leaned forward, head in his hands.  Some his own neat scrawl, crossed out or crumbled.  Some the legible hand of his father.  He felt weary and sick even thinking about this.  About the things written on those papers.  His father had been gone for two moons.  Two moons since the process to change the lordship to him had started and since been completed. Had anyone else asked those damning questions he could have easily lied.  Had anyone else tried to ply him with tear filled eyes he could have resisted.  The truth was too damning but she had asked.  She was no fool though, he knew that.  How could he deny her the truth, and at the same time how could he damn her with it.  

 

Finally the truth of his uncle’s death could come out, but at what cost?  How could she stand to know what her own husband had done.  The repercussions through the city that, while he cared little about, would cause problem after problem for them.  Though how could he lie to her, to keep her in the dark even if it was a kindness in a way.  To let her think that Almant had finally just run off or that business was keeping him away permanently.  Dacien sighed, no, she wouldn’t believe that.  Who truly could that knew his father’s desperate schemes and ploys to gain favor and better standing.

 

He had told no one, save the small voidsent that he was bound to.  That small voidsent that sat watching him at present.  Though Mouse had seemed oddly quiet.  Turquoise lifted and found the small creature, a question on his lips.  Mouse had merely said that his father would no longer be a threat.  He hadn’t pressed the why at the time.  No, he remembered that night distinctly.

 

~~~~~

 

Rain fell for once as he slid through the doors of the manor outside.  He was shaking, everything on fire as the water soaked him.  Each step through the gardens felt heavier and heavier.  His uncle had been murdered by his own father.  How could he have even done that.  Dacien came to the center of the garden and stood still.  Turquoise eyes landed on the fountain and it overwhelmed him.  This is where it had happened.  He knew that much, they hadn’t lied about the where...but the whom.  Not some heretic, nameless and faceless.  No, Cisent’s murderer wore a face he knew all too intimately well.  Carried a name he once had hoped for acceptance from.

 

Knees thudded to stone as the rain fell around him.  A gnawing lack of understanding tore through him.  He couldn’t say he loved his own brother.  They had never been close and likely never would be even if he recovered now.  Yet how could one do that to their own blood.  His eyes slid shut, tears mixing with the rain as it ran down his face.  The reason too left his heart aching.  Cisent had been trying to free him from his father’s grasp.  It was his fault in a way.  Hands fisted at his sides and he felt a terrible mix of overwhelmed and hollow in the same moment.  It barely registered to him that the pact with Mouse was limited to non existent, so lost in his thoughts. 

 

Dacien lost track of how much time passed before he felt the blanket come around his shoulders and the rain be blocked from his face.  Numbly he looked up to meet the gaze of the one responsible. Nirault.  Ever caring Nirault.  The man had always been more than just the head butler of the family.  He’d helped Dacien in more ways than one.

 

“Come inside from the weather lest you fall ill,” he offered quietly.  He did not pry or ask and for that Dacien was grateful.  What even could he say to explain.  No, for now this would be his burden to bear and he would carry it.  It would give him time to determine what to do...how to tell them.  If he should tell them.  Slowly and with help he rose and let Nirault guide him back inside to a fussing Rauchelle.

 

~~~~~

 

“Mouse,” he murmured quietly and the small creature raised its’ head in response, “What am I to do?  What is kinder to her?  To let her go unknowing to father’s true crimes and believe him capable of walking out on his family?  Do I lie to her despite the chance she won’t believe it to offer her the mercy of not knowing the true depths of his treachery?”

 

He paused and gave a sigh, weary as this weighed on him, “Or do I give Cisent justice and be honest with her.  Tell her the truth of matters and let her know that the man she married and loved.  The man she suffered under the hands of was truly such a monster?”

 

He shoved himself up from the desk roughly, as he began to pace toward the fire, “She has enough worries on her already… Lucioux is not getting better.  She may have to bury a son in no small amount of time.”

 

He scrubbed his hands across his face as he leaned against the mantle, eyes gazing into the hot coals.  What then of Evie, dear gods how could he ever tell her.  He felt sick at the very prospect and yet… Cisent’s memory demanded the truth, demanded justice.  Yet was it not a mercy to those yet alive to let them believe the happier things?  Or was it in fact mercy to grant them the truth that closure might come.

 

He poured over the thoughts in his head as a knock came to the study door.  He jerked and whirled around as Mouse skittered into a hiding spot beneath the desk quickly.  The door opened a moment later and Dacien’s heart sank.  There in her travelling garb stood his mother, looking all the more weary and tired.  

 

Adrienne offered him a small smile, “Hello Dacien.  I hope I’m not interrupting.”

 

“Never Mother,” he offered and tried to put on a reassuring smile, “It’s good to see you.  Come in please and make yourself comfortable.”

 

The time for thought had passed he knew.  Heart heavy he watched her come in after shutting the door and settling on the sofa near the hearth.  He moved to settle beside her as he pulled her into a hug.  This would be one of the hardest talks of his life and yet… It was something that had to be done.


	13. Caste - Dances of Words

Swirling colors and gauze filled his vision as he stood with his back to the pillar.  He hadn’t wanted to come and yet duty and protocol had demanded it.  That and the cousin currently across the room chattering at their host.  He grimaced slightly as he recalled her quite pointedly jabbing him in the chest and reminding him that his new station required at least a few such parties and functions.  Though he stood out still like a sore thumb.  More dressed for a funeral in dark colors than a ball, especially one so festive and gaudy and pastel.  Thigh high black leather boots atop black leather bottoms joined by a black tailcoat with a dark purple vest and grey high collared shirt beneath.  The ascot at his throat a purple to match the vest.  Black designs embroidered into the fabric added to the opulent image he presented, if a bit morbid.  

 

He’d heard the whispers.  Women tittering and gossiping, men questioning and yet few had the nerve to outright approach him. More than a few of the younger ladies had even gazed his way adoringly while he caught snippets of comments.  Everything from his outfit to his hair to the strange way he carried himself.  He shook his head slightly and sighed, what he would not give to be anywhere but there at present.  Evie had insisted however.  As he lost himself in thought once more footsteps approached, the quiet swish of skirts against the ballroom floor.  He grimaced internally at the thought of one of those girls with hearts in their eyes was approaching.  To his surprise though as he turned it was one of the older women.  He watched her carefully as she looked at him, fan clasped with an almost death grip in her one hand.  

 

‘She looks distinctly sour,’ he thought to himself somehow stifling the thought that she hopefully was not about to ask him for a dance.

 

“My my such a dour outfit for a bright occasion,” she commented, a sneer curling those painted lips as her fan snapped open.  Her gloved hand moved it to demurely fan herself as she watched him, “Why it almost brings down the mood of such festivities.”

 

“I would hate to bring down the mood,” he replied calmly, “Though with such bright colors of the season I dare say not even I could sway the mood that much.  You give me too much credit perhaps.”

 

“Though I have not seen your face around the social circles before,” she continued, smirking almost delightedly as she thought herself above him and putting him in his place, “Though I have seen you somewhere…”

 

“I do not frequent such balls and parties,” he explained, “I prefer to spend my time with more worthy pursuits than the latest fashion and gossip as is wont to be discussed at these type of get togethers.”

 

He paused, “Or the desperate bids for marrying off to increase standing.  I prefer to curl up with a good book instead.”

 

Her eyes widened and her fan sped up, “That’s where I’ve seen you… that eccentric bookseller from the Crozier.”

 

Her sneer grew as she pressed the issue, “What are you even doing here then?  It’s above someone of your station to even be here...no wonder you’ve no clue how to act at such a function.”

 

A frown crossed his face as he heard her words.  Yet no desire to correct her rose.  It was a waste of breath and effort he felt, she’d made up her mind already.  He was about to shrug and go back to studiously ignoring her when he heard two more sets of footsteps approach and an internal sigh almost became external.  Turquoise shifted from the sneering woman to see the host for the evening and his cousin approaching.  Per protocol he slipped into a bow, the hag at his side curtseying when she realized who had now come closer.

 

“My thanks for the most generous invitation this evening Lady Devraulaire,” he offered as Evie moved over to stand beside him, “My cousin and I were quite pleased to receive it and attend.”

 

The hag was watching curiously, sneer present as she looked at the two standing there.  Both garbed in dark shades and standing out.  Why his lips were as dark as hers even.  She waited to hear how both had even gotten such an invite.  It was clear they didn’t fit in.  Thankfully Lady Devraulaire began to reply and she turned her face to watch the reactions of the two.

 

“Please think nothing of it.  It is we who are honored to have you here,” she offered with her own curtsey, “I am dismayed we were unable to attend the masquerade you held however pressing matters kept his lordship late into the day and I was home tending to our youngest.”

 

Confusion began to spread over the hag’s face as she listened, something not seeming entirely right.  She cast a glance to the lady of the house as Lady Devraulaire continued.

 

“We wish to sincerely wish you the best and should you ever need anything please do not hesitate to ask,” the Lady smiled, “In fact I would love to have you both for tea sometime soon.  Darling Evie has the most wonderful suggestions for the garden and I should very much love to hear more.”

 

Back and forth the hag glanced as she failed to grasp what was going on.  Her fan moved in an effort to keep some semblance of control of her situation.  

 

“Certainly,” Evie offered with a smile and a slight tilt of her head, “I should be glad and truly at some point please call on us.  I would be happy to show you our own gardens.  I must admit I’ve taken great pride in keeping them flourishing despite the climate.”

 

“Delightful,” Lady Devraulaire beamed as she saw the confusion on the other woman’s face, “Ah forgive me, did I forget to do introductions?  Silly of me, I simply presumed you already were acquainted when I saw you here speaking.”

 

The hag felt a sinking feeling of dread overcome her that doubled as the dark lips of the gentleman present quirked up slightly.  Her fan moved ever faster, a testament to her nerves as Lady Devraulaire broke that looming pause.

 

“Might I introduce Lord Dacien de Mythale of House Mythale and his charming cousin Lady Evie,” Lady Devraulaire smiled and the hag’s fan stopped.  Eyes wide and stricken with horror as she turned to gape at Dacien.  Her brain worked in overtime as she realized the grievous mistakes she had made.  The man was above her even in position and the disrespect she’d given.  She paled, even the layers of makeup and blush not hiding how her color drained.

 

“Forgive me my lord,” she half croaked as she dipped into a low curtsey.  Evie watched on curiously til she turned to regard her cousin.  There was a flicker of amusement there and she knew he had a story to tell.  Her gaze flickered back to the woman who was still bowed.

 

“My earlier conduct was most improper,” she added, still not daring to rise.  A chuckle met her ears and her gaze shot up as a pang of fear tore through her.

 

“Have no worries,” he offered quietly as his arms crossed and he regarded her.  Darkened lips quirked up, “How did you put it?  Ah yes.. Some people cannot help but not know how to act at such functions?”

 

Red tore across her cheeks and she straightened, sputtering before she begged forgiveness and tore off to the washroom.  Dacien chuckled again quietly while both Evie and Lady Devraulaire looked at him.  He offered a slight bow to his hostess as he explained, “Forgive me but I could not resist.”

 

Realization dawned on Evie’s face and she playfully swatted his arm, “You’re terrible… just because she didn’t know who you were you really did that?”

 

Lady Devraulaire gave a slight laugh, “I suspect many and more will still be surprised to see you in such a position Lord Mythale.  Though I do hope to still come by and procure a good book from you on occasion.”

 

“Of course,” he replied before turning to Evie, “She was hardly a saint.  A good reality check will remind her hopefully the next time she judges someone based on what she sees.”

 

The Lady laughed while Evie gave a sigh, “You’re terrible cousin.  Though I would not have you any other way.”

 

“At your service milady,” he teased before offering her an arm, “I suppose as a proper lord I should offer you a dance.”

 

Another swat before she accepted and Lady Devraulaire laughed as she watched the two join the sea of moving pastels.  They were not like the others, no.  Though it was good and it made her happy.  She would look after these two and ensure that the other harpies of the upper ranks would not destroy them.


	14. Wounded Animal - Equivilent Exchange

Dacien frowned as he looked around the city.  Evie had called him to meet with her in Gridania for business and, she had teased, amusement.  The air felt off, a prickle of something tickling his senses as he saw the frightening decorations and small images of specters and ghosts all around the city.  At first he was surprised, then wary.  He knew All Saints’ Wake was upon them, but this was not what he had expected.  Booted feet carried him through the city, marveling almost suspiciously at all the things he saw and the strange itch at his own aether.  Before long he found himself at the large open stage area, Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre.  He leaned against one of the posts as he waited for his cousin.  

 

All too soon a masked and frighteningly garbed figure approached him, jumping at him slightly as if to scare him.   A dark eyebrow raised as he watched the figure try again to draw a reaction from him.  The figure paused, almost comically giving an over exaggerated thinking motion.  Dacien merely shook his head as they reached for something in their pocket before cracking it open.  A large disembodied pumpkin head covered their own and he rolled his eyes unmoved by the display.  The pumpkin dissipated and they slunk away to find another victim.

 

“Ah! Dacien,” a woman’s voice called out as he looked up to see Evie approaching.  She had a smile on her face and a festive bat brooch on her gown, “I’m so glad you could make it.”

 

There was something in how she said that which told him this was more than just the typical business and pleasure trip.  He dipped his head to her before pulling her into a tight hug.  Her arms wound around him as she whispered, “I thought there was something you had to see.”

 

“Don’t keep me in suspense,” he murmured back for only her hearing, “And what is that tickling nudge I feel at the edge of my senses.”

 

“It’s exactly what I want to show you,” she whispered under pretense of placing a kiss on his cheek, “I found something.”  

 

She separated from him and began to tug him along through the crowd.  Festive costumes and all manner of spooky things filled the area.  Some looking suspiciously like little voidsent with ‘cute’ hats and such.  He squinted at them as they passed, the question slipping free without realizing, “Are those what I think they are?”  

 

Her nod was the only answer she gave til they were a ways apart from the crowds.  Boxes and surplus decorations were stacked nearby some tents set up where the ‘Continental Circus’ members were staying.  He felt it stronger here and looked to her, breath drawn in between teeth.

 

“It would seem they’ve got people believing them clever ruses and costumes given the ‘feel’ of the horrors of the void,” Evie whispered as she glanced around to ensure no one was paying them any attention, “Somehow they’ve succeeded.”

 

Dacien frowned and shook his head slightly, that did not sit well with him.  To what end were they doing this.  So far no one had disappeared or been consumed so it was not as if it was a legitimate threat and yet it left him bristling.  It was dangerous.  Those thoughts were stilled as Evie tugged on his sleeve and gestured for him to watch.  A few of the members were returning to the tents, a small ahriman floating tiredly behind them.  A small hat set atop its’ head and the poor thing looked worn down.  The two elezen watched as the continental circus members batted it about harshly, going so far as to knock it from the air roughly at one point.  The small creature laid there  while they laughed and Dacien felt himself bristle.

 

“Ought to just sell this thing to the next one what’s got enough cookies to trade,” the one laughed as he gazed down at the struggling creature, “It ain’t right after all.”

 

“Bloody disgrace it is,” the other agreed as he began sorting through something in a crate, “Ain’t right, ain’t useful… Better off dead than as it is.”

 

Both laughed and the larger pulled a knife from the crate, “I can do it right now even.  No one’s gonna notice...or care.”

 

Evie didn’t have to see to know that Dacien was boiling.  She could feel his aether lick at her and before he could march over she slid the few pumpkin shaped cookies she’d acquired into his hand.  Somehow he resisted the urge to crush them as he stalked forward, the picture of eerie calmness.  The two louts looked up to him as one called out, “Oi, what you doin’ back here?”

 

He was silent for a moment then spoke, voice strangely even, “I heard you say selling something.  I would be interested.”

 

The cookies were held up in one clawed hand.  The two began to protest but paused as an almost sickening aura rolled off of the pale elezen before them.  An aura that promised unpleasantness should they protest.  The cookies were tossed before them and they scrambled to gather them and run off.  The small ahriman cowered on the ground as Dacien turned to it.  It shrank back and he reined his aura back in, kneeling before it.

 

“Calm yourself little one,” he offered with a smile as he slowly offered his hand, palm up, “I mean you no harm I promise.”

 

Evie scooted closer, keeping watch while Dacien did his best to convince the small creature that it was safe now.  She felt for it, it was clear that it was truly ‘not quite right’ as they put it and she could only imagine that it’s being brought into the world had not gone as it was supposed to.  The small thing fumbled backward away and Dacien remained still, still offering soothing words and not pressing the matter.  Several moments passed in a similar fashion before finally other voices reached them.  The two from before and another.  Panic tore through the small ahriman and it fluttered anxiously on the ground unable to even take off in it’s fright.  Dacien turned and straightened to greet those who had arrived, the two from before and the one man who had been center stage at the festivities.

 

“Do tell me what is going on here,” he inquired as he regarded Dacien carefully.  Something was off about the man and yet he felt a nagging sense he didn’t want to cross him if the other two’s tale was true about that aura.

 

“I overheard talk of selling this small creature,” Dacien responded as he kept himself between the ahriman and the circus members, “I thought I gave them more than enough payment.  I would find him a valuable addition to my shop.”

 

The barest hint of his aura from before slid free, his aether twisting around him as the voidsent watched on from behind in awe.  While still scared it began to realize that of the people here, this man was defending him.  

 

“The creature is malformed...worthless,” the man offered as he glanced past Dacien at it, “By all means take it.”

 

A nod was given and Dacien reined himself back in before the three moved off again leaving Evie, Dacien and his newest acquisition.  Slowly the small thing crept forward, one hop then another til it’s wings were pressed against Dacien’s boot in a manner of a hug.  Carefully he knelt down and the small creature hopped into his hand.

 

“Let’s go somewhere more private for now,” he offered and Evie nodded before leading them toward the inn where she had rented a room.  The voidsent in his hands still shivered and shuddered but he would expect no less from it after what it had endured.  Perhaps in time it would come to be more relaxed around him and others.  He could hope at least.

 

“No worries my little friend,” he whispered as they walked, “You are safe now.”


	15. Wit - Greener Than The Gardens

The party carried on around them, women tittering and men laughing quietly as they told stories.  Their father had insisted upon their attendance and Cisent had easily acquiesced.  Almant however had not been so eager to go.  It was not so easy to throw his weight around when surrounded by those of equal standing to himself.  The other lords and noble sons were not so easy to intimidate as the lesser citizens and he found himself quite cross by the first bell.  Cisent had gravitated to the circle of others, chatting comfortably and joining in on the conversations easily.  

 

Almant glared at his brother, annoyance growing in him as the man’s wit and charm easily worked him into arrangements and future business arrangements.  The delicate dance of words was not one that Almant was versed in and it vexed him.  He was the first born.  He should be the one they fawned over and laughed with.  As he was stewing by a pillar he caught his brother’s gaze.  A hand raised, the one not holding Cisent’s drink, and gestured Almant over.  He frowned, surely he wouldn’t agree to go there and socialize with his brother and his circle.  Then the thought crossed his mind that he could sway them in his favor.  Surely they would favor him over his brother.  

 

Lips quirked into a smirk as he strode over to join the other men, Cisent’s greeting slipping forth as he reached them, “Ah, how good of you to join us.  Almant, brother these are my friends.  Gentlemen, my brother Almant.”

 

A round of responses followed and Almant felt as if perhaps this would work.  He watched the conversation, joining in as he could though it seemed they all favored books and nonsense over the sword like he did.  Still though he was not deterred from trying to steer the conversation into an avenue he could use.  A tale of his last mission with the knights however left them all staring at him quite curiously.

 

“Ah, hah indeed brother,” Cisent offered quietly as he could see the discomfort on the other’s faces as Almant had told of his last dragon slaying and taking one of his own men to task for not following his orders.  The story was not one they had not heard, indeed it was the other man’s quick thinking and disregard of orders that kept more men alive that day though still he was punished.

 

“Rather heavy handed if you ask me,” one of the others offered as he gazed at Almant, no small amount of disdain in his eyes.  Immediately Almant felt his hackles raise.  Before long the rest were joining in, agreeing that while not entirely wrong his response had been in excess.  Fists clenched at his side before he excused himself tersely.  They watched on as he walked away, Cisent giving a small sigh.  Almant stalked to the balcony and frowned.  He hated his brother.  Hated the ease with which he could ingratiate himself and bend others to his opinion with mere words alone.  More now than ever he wished he’d been the only son.  The one sole heir to earn the support and accolades but instead… even though first born and in line for the Lordship he knew Cisent was more popular and that jealousy consumed him.


	16. Doppelganger - Stunt Double

The glamour over his eye felt funny and rendered his vision milky.  He frowned as the buttons were checked once more.

 

“This is never going to work,” he muttered as the other elezen reached over for a dark item resting on the nearby chest of drawers.  Isterre frowned as it was pulled on him, obscuring his vision for a moment before he could see at least partially. Clawed fingers straightened and toyed with the object before Dacien stepped back to observe.

 

“Hush, this will be fine.  You’ve been instructed on what to do and she has been told I am feeling under the weather and to forgive my quietness,” Dacien assured him as he moved forward to straighten the wig once more.

 

“You’ve studied well enough my mannerisms to make it through one night of sitting through ball preparations,” he added, “Especially as she knows my disdain for the whole process.”

 

“You got involved in All Saints’ Wake,” Isterre countered as he blinked once more, still not liking the lack of visibility in one eye.  That eye that was touched so deeply by the void would never be the right color and so they had come up with a glamour tied to an earring he could employ. 

 

“A holiday I enjoy, and an excuse to shake up society a bit,” Dacien shrugged as he stepped back to regard the whole picture.  Passable, truly passable, though there was no guarantee it would work.  Evie knew him like the back of her hand and yet he had to try.  He could not sit idly by and leave the search to the voidsent.  No, this would not wait and he could not ignore it.  Evie would not understand and in fact given the dangerous nature would have prevented him entirely if she could.  Even if that meant holding him down with her entire body or trying to.

 

“Keep your handkerchief up if need be and pretend to cough if you must,” he advised as he grabbed the small container of lip paint he’d mixed earlier that day.  A stain that would stay on til the counter agent was applied so it wouldn’t smudge or smear.

 

Isterre groaned, this was definitely not going to work and yet what could he say.  Before he knew it Dacien was shoving him in a high collared coat after painting his lips and sending him down to the parlor where Evie would join her ‘cousin’ later.  Said actual cousin however would be far away and deep in caves, searching and digging for information.

 

A satchel at his hip with anything he could possibly need including first aid supplies and that strange tome and letter.  He couldn’t trust leaving it behind or unattended incase it bore information he needed.  A few magical trinkets and baubles were hidden on his person or in that bag as well as two daggers, one in a boot, the other just inside the satchel.  His rapier was added last after pulling on a long travelling coat with a large hood.  Mouse crept onto his shoulder, hiding himself in that tall collar beneath Dacien’s long hair.

 

“We’ve little time to spare Mouse,” he offered as he strode from the manor, “If the others find anything tell me as soon as you are able.”

 

~~~~~

 

The first few attempts had yielded nothing and no more information was forthcoming at present.  Dacien sighed and settled against the rocky wall of the cave, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as the quiet chime in his ear went off.  That linkpearl was one he shared with Rinalys and Isterre.  A quiet sigh escaped him as he answered, “Yes Isterre? What is it?”

 

“Where are you?”

 

The voice that reached him was not his worker, but instead his cousin.  A cousin who did not seem happy.

 

“Evie,” he started, weariness and frustration creeping over him, “Do not hold him to fault.  I put him up to it.  I shoved the garments on him myself for a doublefold reason.”

 

“I’m listening,” she bit out before silence fell across the channel again.

 

“They are out, doing my bidding.  He is your protection,” he pressed on over her attempt to interrupt, “I am aware you are able to care for yourself however this situation is more than we have previously encountered.  I am searching for something and he will ensure your safety at home.  Isterre and the wards.  Do not leave the manor and be cautious of any who come to call.”

 

She began to protest and his voice covered hers again, unyielding and with a rare form of panic in it, “Please heed me and do not leave the manor.  If you must keep him at your side at all times as well as the crystal I gave you.  Please Evie.”

 

She nodded though he could not see it, “You have my word Dacien… Be safe, please.”

 

Evie paused, “I cannot lose you.”

 

“It is my hope to handle it and be home as soon as possible,” he answered, tone weary and heart heavy, “Be safe.”

 

“You as well Dacien,” she whispered as he closed the connection, a sigh leaving him.  His heart ached and he only hoped things would look brighter soon.  A part of him realized that suddenly he was looking forward to the Starlight ball and the hope that all would be well and back to normal by then.


	17. Ceruleum - Unleash

Craggy rocks and glowing crystals surrounded the area as he slowed the chocobo to a canter.  Turquoise eyes were aflame as he raked them across the area.  The plant sat a ways behind him and far in the distance he could see more outcroppings and crystals.  His entire body felt taut and on edge.  Aether thrummed through him as Mouse perched on his shoulder, the small creature practically vibrating like it’s pact mate.  The darker thoughts swirled through him as clawed hands held the chocobo’s reins in a painfully tight grip.

 

“Where are you…” he muttered to himself before he caught a hint of movement in the distance.  He spurred his mount in that direction his irritation growing with each passing moment. The darker aspects of him churning and baying for blood and destruction.  He would take great delight in letting that part out to play for once instead of keeping it tightly reined in.  His body practically sang at the thought of what he would do when he found them.  True he had to let the one live… A quiet growl left him as he recalled the terms, where he could not harm or punish that one.  There were ways around that however and he would find them but no death.  No, not for that one, death was too easy.  First things first though and that was to find them.

 

As he rounded the corner he caught sight of golden hair and dark leather.  He had no guarantee, and there should have been another but something told him.  A low chittering rumble came from his shoulder as Mouse growled.  The chocobo carried them closer before Dacien halted a few yalms away from the unmoving person.  It was sent back to town with orders to wait there and silence hung in the air as it did as bid.  Once it was safely gone those luminous turquoise orbs which hadn’t left the man narrowed, “Cyprien I presume?”

 

A smirk, pleasant and inviting was his answer and his aether thrummed in response.  One hand closed around the hilt of his rapier while the other drew forth the focus.  A dark chuckle left him, the echo creeping into his voice.

 

“I believe I have a ‘kindness’ to repay upon you,” he murmured quietly as Mouse chittered darkly, his energy spiking as he began to draw forth from the things around them.  Dacien grinned darkly as his glamour slid away slowly.  Dark claws, wickedly sharp, came into view as his grip tightened.  The normal color seemed to dissolve right off the nails he kept hidden.  His horns and the rest were kept hidden yett, still glamored away from sight, though the aether seeping from him was unnerving.

 

“A kindness you say?” Those golden eyes lit with amusement, seemingly ignoring the growing aura that slid off of Dacien, “I do hope you’ve brought enough to pay the debt.”

 

A chuckle slid from Dacien, the hint of an echo to that voice as he drew the rapier.  Turquoise eyes slid shut for the barest of moment as he readied the aether for a spell.  Mouse was thrumming with energy on his shoulder, the small creature’s eyes alight as they fixed on Cyprien.

 

“If you don’t have enough I’ll have to take the rest from him,” Cyprien threatened with an all too pleased tone, “Think of the fun that will be to watch him pulled apart slowly.”

 

Dacien growled quietly, Mouse’s claws tightening imperceptibly in his shoulder.  The man continued with a laugh, “Though perhaps first I should show him your broken body.”

 

A spell flew out, immediately followed by another, the dirt near where Cyprien had been seconds before erupting as magic coated the debris.  A cackle tore through the dust rising as Dacien readied another spell, his rapier drawn.

 

“Is that all? Flashy lights and destruction of the dirt,” Cyprien called out, “I expected better your Lordship.”

 

Another chuckle from the blonde man, “Or perhaps even that is merely for show.  Oh I’ll enjoy tossing the remnants of you at him.  He can use them as if scraps of a blanket til he’s torn to shreds.”

 

More magic flew from Dacien’s fingertips in rapid succession, each more powerful than the last.  A calmness covered the area as he let the dust settle. The last few had come in contact and yet he had missed hearing the pained cries.  A quiet pained grunt was the best he had received and it did nothing to sate the darkness in him.  No, he wanted to hear him cry, he wanted to hear him plead, to beg for a reprieve.  To see the fear take him and wholly claim him.

 

He chuckled as dust cleared and he leapt back.  That laugh shifted as turquoise eyes burned brightly.  Across the small area Cyprien stood smirking, gloating as if he knew something Dacien didn’t.  The noble stared him down as his glamour slid away.  Mouse chittered ominously as the energy swirled around the pair.  Long hair fluttered in the wind as horns crept into view, tiny purple stripes so very similar to Mouse’s markings glowing dimly along them.  He laughed outright as he saw the look on Cyprien’s face shift slightly.  

 

“Did you not expect this?” Dacien taunted, “In your planning did you forget to take into account that I was an unknown?”

 

The focus and rapier connected as he launched another spell, scoring the ground all around where Cyprien stood, “Oh you thought you knew didn’t you… A mistake on your part.  Even he doesn’t know entirely what I am capable of.  No one living does.”

 

That echo, ominous and dangerous reached out as another blast shot forward before Cyprien could dodge.  What was left when the dust cleared however was not a ruined elezen man.  But flapping wings and a large singular eye.

 

“You’re still going to fail,” it bit out, shakily hovering in the air as the oppressive aura from Dacien engulfed it.  Even the crevices and corners of the rocks nearby were beginning to grow, to creep forward.  

 

Dacien ignored those words as the rapier was sudden alight with energy, dark lips turning up into a smirk.  He flew forward, Mouse hot on his heels as the darkness rose to bind the ahriman in place.  Flames licked the blade as it flashed out carving at the creature with no mercy.  In fact it seemed to take great delight in seeking points that would not kill, but hurt and incapacitate.  A pained shriek tore from the thing as he plunged the sword home one last time, it’s body falling from the air to land in the dark puddle of blood and gore.  A puddle also comprised of Mouse’s own magic to bind it there and hold it. 

 

Dacien smiled, a predatory grin that promised this was not even remotely over as he knelt down, ripping the sword free.  It was plunged into the ground now, the runes dim on it compared to how they were moments ago.  He knelt a clawed hand coming out roughly to dig in at the thing’s upper eyelid.  He drug it forward as it tried to squirm away from him.

 

“Have I repayed you enough yet?  Have I shown you the kindness upon kindness I promised?”  Aether crept forward from those fingers, slipping into the wounded creature further cracking and splintering it, “Let me give you a little more to make sure you know the true depth of matters.  I would hate for you to go to oblivion still misunderstanding.”

 

More of his energy pooled forward as Mouse crept close, he looked warily at Dacien before his attention slid to the mutilated mess that was the ahriman once disguised as an owl.  A fitting fate the small creature thought as he watched Dacien slowly shatter it from the inside out, that large eye flickering around wildly as panicked shrieks tore from its’ damaged throat.  Those silenced as it neared its end, the tips of wings beginning to fade into oblivion.  In its’ last moments he chuckled once more and leaned down close.

 

“You aren’t who I came to destroy by the way,” he whispered as that large eye widened, “But how can I resist after what you did.  A small bonus to tide me over until I find him…And I will find him.”

 

Before it could register any more that dark aether crept through it to it’s core and splintered in, shattering it.  Dacien let the body slump to the ground, a sickening squelch as it landed in it’s own gore. He shook his hand off to remove any bits before he retrieved the rapier.  Turquoise eyes watched the thing slip into the void, dissipating before him.  He wanted something of it to keep.  He had uses for it after all.  The rapier’s runes lit again, this time not the normal color.  No this time a dark swirling mix of purple and black coated it and he plunged it down, severing one of the beast’s legs.  The void aether cauterized the wound and as the rest of the body faded to the void, helped along by Mouse, that leg remained.

 

Dacien stood, breathing heavily over that leg for a moment before he returned the sword and focus to his hips.  The darkness in him slowly receeded enough he could put his glamour back up but he still exuded that aura, he still reeked of the dark magics that tainted him.  He had called on it far more tonight than in the past and yet he felt fine.  Irritated though that Cyprien had evaded him for now, but satisfied at the death of that creature.  Traitorous thing that it was.

 

“Come Mouse,” he retrieved the leg and started toward where he’d sent the chocobo, “It’s time to go home.” 


	18. Fate - Retrospection

He’d talked to the creature at length.  It had been some months after all and such things were bound to happen.  A clawed hand raked through his hair roughly as he sank onto the sofa.  This was it then, this was how it was.  Though he had no one to blame but himself he knew that he still was remarkably lucky.  Most were not so fortunate when such pacts were made.  The truth of the matter though was that someone had in fact paid the price, though not him.  His eyes shut as his head fell to rest in his hands.

 

Evie knew, somehow she hadn’t run from him.  Somehow she was still there, the same as always to offer him support.  A part of him wondered at first if it was out of sympathy, pity even.  She had admitted to feeling sadness for what had transpired but still understood it had been his choice.  His mistake.  

 

He had even wallowed in self pity for a time as he tried to come to terms with things.  When he struggled to make the glamour work so he could leave once more.  It hadn’t worked at first and he became frustrated.  It was one of those days that the small creature had offered him power.  Mouse had offered him exactly what he wanted, the ability to go out.   He had but to draw on the void and the aether around him and yet he had refused.  That act had left Mouse confused.  What man called upon the void and did not seek power and knowledge to become as a god.  It made the small creature look at him in a new light, a curious light that spoke volumes of how much Mouse did not understand.

 

Slowly he would learn, they both would, over the next years.  This was not a pact for power or glory.  Nor was it for domination or subjugation.  No, this was different.  Knowledge played a part certainly but not knowledge to abuse or use against others.  More to understand, to prevent misuse.  This was a pact for friendship and acceptance in as strange of a way as Mouse had ever seen. 

 

It was the fate they had both chosen and neither one would trade it for anything.  


	19. Self Control - Broken Threads

He had worked so hard to always remain composed, cool even.  He’d had to master such things with the boundless aether pool and raw talent for magic he’d always had.  His lessons had come in handy when he made his pact.  That self control and determination had left him able to learn how to hide himself well enough eventually that he could go out again.  That self control carried him through all sorts of situations, even the night he’d found himself faced with whether to deliver justice to his own father or let him live and be the bigger person.  He had clung to it through thick and thin.  It had been the only factor to keep himself composed as he growled out the questions demanding answers.  The names and places of those involved and the one he sought.

 

All that self control was shattered in one moment.  As soon as he’d separated from the rest of the rescue party Dacien felt that thread weaken.  As soon as he fell upon the target of his retribution that strand had broken.  Gone was the restraint and instead he let the darker side he kept reined in free.  Aether crawled and coursed through his veins as easily as the blood.  His skin practically hummed as he drew forth from the things around him, Mouse aiding him.  Dacien’s entire being thrummed with power as again and again he lashed out.  The realization coming after he’d already begun that it was not the one he sought, but still one just as guilty did little to calm him.  No, it merely heightened the swirling emotions left to run free.

 

In the aftermath he stood looking down at the remaining appendage.  Blood covered the area, none his own, as well as debris and destruction.  Still his control was gone.  A stray spell flew off to destroy a rock a ways away.  It felt good but still it did not ease his frustrations.  He was still out there..no,  _ they _ were.  A growl slipped from darkened lips as the sword and focus were easily set aside in favor of the good old sensation of letting a spell loose from his fingers.  It scalded and tingled a bit but he ignored it, the familiar burn of his aether churning within him.  Aether now amplified and in greater quantity than normal.  He knew he could not return to the manor just yet.  No, much as a part of him wanted to return and check on them he knew to show up now would not be wise.  A pity that those he sought had not been here though a small bit of Dacien knew that if they had been he would have been hard pressed to hold back at all.  That would make him reckless and could be a problem when faced with the actual parties.  It would be a long ride home to the manor he knew and not for distance.  No, he had to check and recheck to put himself back to what he should be.  

 

Composed.  

 

Steady.  

 

In control.

 

The walk to retrieve his chocobo was taken slowly, that severed claw in hand.  His aether still churned but slowly the darkness receeded as he and Mouse made their way back.  Next time he would not lose himself so easily.  Next time he would be better, if only to ensure that the one making those who crossed him suffer was truly he himself.


	20. Battle of Wills - Festive Fighting

Verdigris orbs narrowed as she crossed her arms.  Lesser men would have been easily cowering before that glare however the recipient this time seemed entirely unfazed save further irritation.  His own frown grew as she watched him.

 

“You were to assist with the decorating and preparations,” she bit out, fighting the urge to tap her foot on the marble floors, “I do not recall that including such colorful commentary about said decorations.”

 

Isterre shrugged as he looked at her.  Whether through the fact that the two worked so much together around the shop, or the fact that in the last bit he had become a bodyguard of sorts for the noble woman the dynamic between the two had shifted.  Never had he particularly felt a need to be wholly ‘proper’ and bow and scrape, though she had never asked for such from him.  The two interacted cordially though lately it had almost shifted to a more sibling-esque bond.

 

“I thought you might want a realistic opinion about how the godsdamned things looked,” he retorted as he moved to one of the small magically preserved ‘snowmen’ she was debating putting at the bottom of the grand staircase.  Deft fingers plucked a top hat from the nearest one and plunked it down on his own head as he turned to her.

“Do pardon me for saying milady that these frosted balls stacked in such a fashion look quite silly,” he teased in a mock snooty voice, “As if lalafels coated in white and parked here for someone’s amusement.”

 

“And you say your idea is better?” Evie retorted as she watched him remove the top hat and begin to twirl it in his hands.

 

“It’s more traditional,” Isterre supplied as he gestured to the colorful presents that were carefully stacked up at the other side of the stairs, “Looks less like it’ll melt into a tripping hazard too.”

 

The two shot daggers to one another as the main door opened and Dacien returned. He halted as he looked at the two and Rinalys who was sitting nearby watching.  The package in his hands was held closely to his body for safety as he asked, “Do I want to know what all is going on?”

 

“Decoration disagreements,” she offered as she looked curiously at that package before moving her gaze to him.

 

“Ah, I see,” Dacien nodded before moving over toward the two and the pile of crates bearing decorations for the manor.  Carefully he reached into the one and looked before he pulled out another hanger for the mantle.  There was an oddly pleased smile on his face as he stepped toward the parlor where the family’s more personal decorations were settled.

 

“I rather like the idea of trees at the bottom of the stairs with greenery and garland going up either side,” he offered over his shoulder as he walked and both turned to face him, floored almost that he had actually had input.  Thus far he’d been remarkably detached from the festivities and the decorating leaving most of it to Evie and the delegation of tasks to Rin and Isterre.  In hindsight both had to admit that would look better and with a slight nod they each began clearing their ideas away.

 

Dacien meanwhile moved into the sitting room, looking at the family’s tree, the garland about the room, the stockings on the fireplace.  He smiled slightly as he set the newest hanger up and settled it in before he unwound the string and paper from the package in his hands.  A stocking rested inside the paper, made in a similar fashion to his own but with dark blue embroidery bearing its’ owner’s name instead of the dark purple of his own.  Carefully he rearranged the stockings so that when he stepped back the newest addition hung directly beside his in the center.

 

“There we are,” he murmured before he gathered the wrappings and stepped back, “As it should be.”

 


	21. Blending In - Skitters in the Dark

They didn’t understand.  The one in charge, with the pact, had tried to explain and they merely looked at him curiously.  They understood the need to not be obvious yet these concepts were more extensive.

 

“You cannot be seen by customers,” he’d explained and tiny heads had raised to look at him.  An exasperated sigh had followed as he implored Mouse to get them to see reason.  He still wasn’t ready to reopen the shop but he had to get them trained before he could.  Dacien could only imagine the hell that would erupt if a customer saw one of them just crawling or flying around.  So Mouse went to work.  Many attempts were made and most failed.  The creatures while understanding to an extent seemed largely to not care.  It wasn’t until someone came calling that was not the woman they saw so frequently.  Curiosity piqued through the small hoard of creatures lurking in the shadows.  They watched on as the elezen met with the guest.  Another woman but they were not sure who.  

 

They shifted closer, curious as to what was going on.  Why was the elezen man hiding himself.  His horns were not funny looking, nor were the rest of the changes.  Was this how he had to live, pretending to look like them.  Curious they snuck closer, tiny claws on the wood.  The woman stiffened and looked around.  Dacien froze as well, eyes creeping to the darkness where he knew they were.

 

“Have you rats?” the woman asked, “Some infestation...truly this is not needed.  Please come home.”

 

The voidsent paused at the faint shimmer of aether from him, not enough for her to notice but enough for them.  He turned his attention back to her, “Mother, I cannot.  Through circumstances the shop has fallen to my ownership now.  My mentor has left and I have taken up the shop as my own in his absence.”

 

She frowned and looked back to him, “I worry for you...you are of a higher standing than this.  Why lower yourself?  Why not come home?”

 

He gave her a gentle hug and a smile, “It’s all right, I prefer it here.  I enjoy it and I dare say I fit in better with these books than I ever did at home.”

 

Adrienne sighed quietly as she reached over to pull him into a hug before the two moved upstairs for tea.  She never would understand and the voidsent would try to piece together that.  Perhaps their leader would have some insight, the small creature having bound himself to this man.


	22. Wind - A Moment's Respite

The windows rattled and the shutters shook as it howled outside.  Frost covering the glass and making visibility impossible.  The fire inside burned brightly, cracking and popping as if to counter that frosty breath whipping around the shop and Ishgard as a whole.  Dacien had been expecting the weather to turn bad, there had been all the signs and yet it had come on more suddenly than expected.  He’d had to lock the doors early, scrambling to get the shutters closed and locked in case the blizzard got rough.  Thankfully the other man had been some help, tending to the upper floors while Dacien managed the lower.  It certainly looked however like neither would be making it back to the manor that night.

 

Turquoise eyes gazed across the lower level, ensuring all was secured before he moved up repeating the precautions for windows there.  It was strangely unsettling really, the shop so quiet and the wind outside after everything lately.  He’d gotten used to the others being around more.  He’d started to enjoy having his cousin around more regularly, Isterre and Rin chattering at each other.  In fact he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more there. They’d been around one another quite a bit lately.  That line of thought however led him to the man upstairs and a quiet sigh left him.  A most unexpected turn of events truly.  Carefully he trudged upstairs after checking the rest of the windows and looked for the duskwight.  Edarien was in the sitting room, the sliding door to the bedroom open and both fires comfortably going.  Dacien smiled as he leaned in the doorway, just watching for a moment.  He crept forward quietly, noticing how the other elezen hadn’t turned to look at him.  As he neared he realized why.  Head tilted slightly to the side  Edarien had drifted off on the sofa.  

 

He seemed so peaceful and Dacien wondered how long he’d been out.  How long had he been so tired that this moment of reprieve was enough to lull him to sleep. The thought crossed his mind of whether to wake him and pull him to bed.  He didn’t have it in him though, the duskwight man looking so at peace for the moment.  Dacien’s next thought was to maybe carry him but that might wake him.  It was definitely doable and yet he settled for the third option that came to mind. Quietly he crept into the bedroom, cautious of his footsteps.  Two large pillows and a few plush blankets were retrieved from the bed and spare bedding before he carried them back into the sitting room.  

 

Somehow without waking Edarien past a slight mumble he managed to get the one pillow behind the man’s head.  Carefully boots were removed and set aside, his own joining them as he padded in sock covered feet back over.  He kept the second pillow handy as he carefully got Edarien’s feet up onto the fluffy ottoman.  The first blanket was then arranged over him, the second one joining it not long after.  Dacien set the third with the pillow on the other end of the sofa as he grabbed a book he’d been reading and settled in beside Edarien on the couch gently.  His own feet were put up and then he tucked himself under those same blankets, snuggled against the other man’s side as he used Edarien’s chest as a pillow while he read.  

 

Some time would pass, throughout the night that book was set aside forgotten as an arm had come to wind around Dacien and he too fell to slumber’s call.  Mouse watched the two before settling in himself on the separate chair.  For now the small creature contented itself though it knew before the end of the night he’d have to get the vodoriga to put more logs on the fire.  The two men on the sofa needed their rest and he would not interrupt it, or allow anyone else to.


	23. Monster - It's All Relative

Dacien cringed as he thought about what was coming.  No part of this would be easy, in fact he dreaded doing it.  He recalled that day she had come to him asking for answers.  He’d managed to dissuade her for at least that day though he knew the topic would rise again.  It was why he was arranging the tea set for the seventh time in the last ten minutes.  Nerves were on full alert as he tried to think of how to even word it.  

 

How does one tell someone you love something horrible about someone they love.  

 

The answer eluded him still and in little more than a quarter of a bell she would be there.  He ran over scenarios in his head, hoping that it would make things easier.  Or perhaps even make more sense on how to do this and not destroy her.  Again and again he dashed one scenario after another.  Something always going wrong.  It was when he was lost in one of those that he heard the knock at the door before she gently pushed it open more from where he’d left it ajar.  

 

“Dacien?” she called out and he turned, turquoise finding her easily.  A smile, forced but there, crept onto his face as he beckoned her in.

 

“Mother, it’s good to see you,” he offered as he pulled out a plush chair for her to sit in.  She complied, easing in gently after giving him a brief hug.

 

“How are you?  How is Lucioux?” the questions rolled easily from him as he settled across from her to pour the tea.  He knew he couldn’t put it off forever but still he hoped to at least delay it a bit.

 

“I am well,” she offered as she smiled at him, taking the offered cup, “Thank you.  Lucioux is… the same.  The healers are not certain what is keeping him in such a state but they say there is still hope.”

 

He could hear the unspoken bit there.  That hope, while there was small and dwindling.  How could he tell her such things… it almost made him as much of a monster as the man he would be discussing.  A sigh slid from him as he ignored his own tea, suddenly not thirsty.

 

“Dacien please,” she began quietly, settling the cup back down as one hand reached for him, “Talk to me.  Tell me what it is you know.  I am no fool, there is more at play here than what I have been led to believe.”

 

“It is... not the most pleasant to hear Mother,” he replied with a sigh as he took her hand.  She seemed so small and fragile then and once more he nearly buckled at the task before him.  

 

Adrienne gave his hand a reassuring squeeze then as she smiled faintly, “Oft times what we most need to hear is not pleasant or comfortable.  Please Dacien.”

 

A sigh left him, heavy and with a strange weariness to it as he began to explain what he had learned… what his father, her husband had truly done and been capable of.  The truth of his uncle’s death slid free as he watched her process his words.  He refrained from mentioning how the man had even planned to use her and Evie to force his compliance.  The other information was damning enough.  There was little doubt to the monster that Almant Mythale had been.  Though Dacien wondered as she broke down into tears as he finished if he was truly any better.

 

He scooped her into his arms, having moved from across the table to be at her side and she clung to him desperately.  Tears slid down her cheeks and tiny hands fisted in his shirt as she clung to him, the only son she truly had left.


	24. Standing In Line - Holiday Suffering

He sighed, wondering for a moment why he had decided to do this.  Or rather why he himself had gone out.  The nagging answer crept up that he wanted to ensure that they all had a good holiday after everything that had transpired.  Life had become chaotic and in some ways they were still picking up the pieces.  Dacien sighed, it was terrible though.  The Jeweled Crozier was busier than ever and he felt irritation rise and yet he had to ensure he got this handled before who knew what else happened.  This was the fifth shop he’d stopped in to get something and already Dacien could feel that desire to go home and curl up in front of the fire rise.  Women shoving all around, bustling for the best presents for their children and to show their status.  He supposed in a way he didn’t look much better, favoring the higher quality items over those more cheaply made.  His reasoning though had little to do with status.  His was entirely to do with ensuring that his gifts lasted for the longest time they could for those he held dear.

 

Slowly he was finishing his shopping, with a mere two people still to purchase for.  The line at the counter for the current store however stretched far and he debated trying to find what he sought elsewhere.  He knew that was a foolish idea as it would be most likely gone everywhere else, or unobtainable.  He shifted forward, waiting with his purchases in hand as the line crept forward.  As he made it what seemed halfway he caught sight of something and an idea struck him.  Quickly he flagged one of those serving down and began to make his plans a reality.

 

“I see you do the customization on these, how long does it take?”  he began simply, “Also are you able to match an existing series of these?”

 

“Certainly ser,” the lad responded with a weary smile, “Given the time it’s taking it’s possible to complete it by the time you reach the till and if you know the series or family name we can look in our records to match it exactly.”

 

“Wonderful,” Dacien offered with a smile before offering the family name to the boy.  His eyes widened and he dipped low before rushing off to obtain the information that was needed.  Upon his return Dacien laid out the final details and suddenly found that waiting in line was not quite as bad.  Still women bustled around and shoved, still children whined for their items, men demanding the most expensive items.  Yet he found himself content.  He knew it was a strange part of a Starlight present but yet the meaning it would carry would say much and more.  As he reached the counter a small package, not yet tied, was presented and he smiled seeing what set there.  A perfect match to his own save the different colored embroidery.

 

“He’ll love it...I hope,” he murmured before paying for everything and heading back to the shop to hide his purchases save that one.  That one he would take to the manor right away and hang with pride.


	25. Obsolete - Threadbare

He frowned, the bundle held in his hand was his but still… it wasn’t anymore.  It was all that tied him to his former life and a part of him wondered if it was wise to part with it entirely or if truly it was so useless now to him in the face of his future.  Memories flooded him, of when he last visited ‘home’ a place so alien and foreign to him now.  Isterre deflated slightly.  They’d run him out, threatening him… actually attacking him.  His free hand moved up to the scar that trailed along his face.  No creature from the void or otherwise had given him that.  No, that mark had come from someone he called family once.  From someone who never should have turned their back on him and yet they had.  

 

He’d fled then, in the clothes on his back with nothing more than what he’d turned back up with.  It hadn’t been easy to find shelter.  With little money and that damnable eye he was running into more problems than he’d wanted.  Eventually he found ruins.  He found a spot within and he managed to hide, ashamed and full of a growing hatred and mistrust for others.  To be truthful Isterre had expected to die there.  He’d almost accepted that fate too and then noises.  Not the usual shuffling of the denizens of the dark either.  That strange elezen with his fancy garb and glowing eyes.  Eyes that made Isterre feel a strange bond with.  They made him feel like someone might understand, might be the same. 

  
He’d been wrong about being the same, well to a degree.  They both knew what it was like to touch the void and walk away.  Though the man he would come to work for, the man named Dacien certainly commanded enough power on his own before he ever dabbled into the void.  Isterre envied that honestly, the confidence and composure that Dacien held, that’s how he wanted to be.  Not the scared man waiting to die in those ruins.  So here he was now.  Dressed in finer clothes than he’d ever worn before and holding his old ones, the last tie to that life.

They were shabby, threadbare and dirty.  They were reminders of who he had been and while he didn’t want to forget that part of that man was gone and dead.  With only a passing moment of regret he threw them into the fire, watching as the flames consumed who he was.  Fire baptised didn’t it?  That was the saying he’d heard.  Then with that last piece burning to ash he would be reborn.  He’d not cower anymore and be the man that he wanted to be.  A man worthy to wear the clothing now on him.


	26. Sacred - Prayers Offered

Snow crunched beneath his boots, the sound echoing off the gravestones and monuments.  Flurries danced around his head, the wind helping to pull and tug at those long dark strands.  Despite tying them back in a low ponytail they still moved with the breeze and yet he paid them no heed.  One foot in front of the other he moved forward toward his intended goal.  Past the rows of lower nobility, those who in most societies would have been deemed middle class at worst.  Onward he walked past the rows as the stones and monuments became more and more ornate.  Soon enough he was nearing the halfway mark, mausoleums starting to dot the layout.  Dacien paused for a moment turning to look back the way he’d come.  The view was something truly, although morbid.  The graveyard situated with a view of the large ravine.  In a way he found it oddly fitting.

 

Dacien gave a quiet sigh and continued climbing, moving up to where the area leveled out.  He remembered this spot well.  He recalled how the rain had bounced off the walkway.  How those six men had carried that coffin along it.  His hand tightened on the flowers he carried as he made his way down and to the end where a rather fancy mausoleum sat.  Dacien’s free hand came up to unlock it, the small metal key clutched tightly in black leather clad fingers.  It was pocketed again as he carefully swung the door open.  A slight squeak told him he’d have to remind them to oil it as he stepped in and over to the side where a familiar name was inscribed beneath a black vault.  Gently the flowers were laid atop the stone box holding Cisent Mythale’s coffin as Dacien’s hands moved to rest on the edge of the stone.  This was holy ground, this was a sacred place.

 

“Forgive me for waiting so long Uncle,” he whispered quietly, aware he was the only one present, “I had not meant to wait but so much has happened… so much has come to light even since that night I saw your specter.  Was that truly you?  To this day I do not know for certain.  Perhaps merely wishful thinking on my part.”

 

Dacien sighed, leaning over to press his bowed head to the stone, “I’m not even sure where to begin.  I told mother what truly happened.  She begged to know...how could I lie to her and yet how could I tell her.”

 

He took a shuddering breath, “I have not told Evie yet...I know soon enough she will want to know though.  She’s aware that something more happened that night father disappeared.  I don’t want to have to tell her such news.  She is precious to me and I would protect her from such things..but she deserves to know the truth.”

 

“Such things weigh on me, amongst others,” he sighed and let turquoise eyes slide shut, “You always were a source of wisdom, of insight for me Uncle.  When I did not know or understand I could trust in you to help me grasp something.  I wish you were here now for me to ask about these feelings.  They claw and tear at me from the inside and I cannot help but indulge them.  They center around a man I have come to learn and though danger follows him I find I want nothing more than to protect him.”

 

“I want nothing more than his happiness and safety,” he chuckled quietly, “What is this feeling?  What is this all consuming sensation that makes me feel as if I’m being burnt from the inside out yet not losing anything...Is this what you felt for Auntie?  Is this…” 

 

He hesitated unsure if saying the word would prove beneficial or damning.  With a sigh Dacien straightened, one hand remaining to linger on the stone.

 

“I must get back before anything happens in my absence,” he said sadly, “I will try to come visit more frequently even though I know it is merely where your remains are… it is sacred to many and there is ever the small hope that I will feel your presence once more.  Until then Uncle.”

 

Booted feet carried him back outside and he locked the door again.  The snow swirled around him and he shut his eyes as his head tilted back to face the heavens.  Was this his sign?  Or some coincidence of fate…


	27. Foot in Mouth - Business Propositions

The shop’s bell had alerted him to the customer and soon enough he’d helped the woman find what she was looking for.  Gifts for her husband and father as well as new ledgers for her son and some new quills for her daughter.  A daughter she was surreptitiously trying to hint that the Lord should marry.  He’d politely declined and brushed off the suggestions as best he could.  Of course as women of nobility are wont to do she kept up on the latest gossip.

 

“Ah but my young Estrienne is such a charming girl.  I should hope you will favor her with a dance at the least at your Starlight Ball my Lord,” she smiled demurely, “I’m sure after all that a fine match will help secure you a spot in the House of Lords should you wish. Despite the rumors floating abound.”

 

She waved her hand slightly, that coy smile spreading as Dacien paused in counting the money she’d handed over.  The package set unwrapped still on the counter and he looked up to her.

 

“Pray tell what rumors is it this time milady?” he almost sighed as he resumed counting the money.

 

She tittered, a shrill approximation of a laugh which he suspected she thought charming, “Why the rumors say they’ve seen you favoring a duskwight of late.  Sheer poppycock I imagine.  With the other eccentricities they claim it is but one other falsehood to make you seem so mysterious and strange.”

 

He tensed, eyes narrowing a fraction which she didn’t seem to notice as she continued, “After all why would someone sully themselves with such a lot.  Thieves and fiends the lot of them.”

 

“Indeed,” he murmured, the only hint of warning his tone as she opened her eyes to peer at him curiously.  The money was slid back over to her and the items moved back along the counter away.

 

“What...what are you doing?” she sputtered as she watched him effectively decline the sale.

 

His face was stoney and serious as he explained, “Why would someone… how did you put it?  Sully themselves with such a lot wasn’t it?”

 

She felt a dread fill her, his frown was intimidating and his tone did not bode well, “My Lord...forgive me…”

 

“You what?  You sought to pass assumptions based on rumor and gossip.  You thought to cast aspersions upon a man’s character without knowing him fully,” he pressed, moving her purchases back behind the counter.

 

“Forgive me my Lord,” she begged, “I know someone of such standing as yourself would not dally with such lowlives.  Her ladyship has ever come to our shop for clothes and accessories and she like you is of impeccable character.”

 

He held up a hand to stop her, “You misunderstand.  You cast your judgement upon someone who is dear to me. The ‘thief and fiend’ that you hear gossip of is to be my partner for the Starlight Ball and as such will command all my dances should he wish it.”

 

She paled visibly, her lower lip threatening to drop through the floor as he continued, “In the future I suggest that you find elsewhere for your business as obviously we associate with such an ‘unsavory lot.’”

 

She backed up a step before sputtering almost angrily at being so dismissed.  He didn’t budge however and so she turned to storm out.  A thought struck him then.

 

“A moment if you will,” he called out and she halted a smug look on her face at the thought he was about to apologize, “You said that my cousin favors your establishment for her clothes and baubles?”

 

“Indeed,” she retorted, a smug note to her voice, “Lady Mythale is ever stopping by to have us work on her new designs.”

 

“I see,” he murmured and pretended to think for a moment, “In such an event then we too shall have to move our patronage elsewhere.  Especially as that particular ‘thief’ will need accoutrements for the ball and I would prefer to take him to an establishment that will not have such a negative opinion.”

 

The outrage on her face was worth it as she seemed torn between indignation and despair.  With little more hesitation she spun and stormed from the shop, the bell jangling loudly as the door was slammed shut.  Dacien let out a sigh as she left.  He had no doubt that more would come to hear such rumors, especially now.  Regardless though he would not buckle.  He had no regrets about his choice in a partner and everything he obtained there in Ishgard normally could be attained elsewhere if need be.  The more important thing was the principle of the matter.


	28. Rivalry - The Ghost of Starlight Past

Eyes narrowed as Lucioux looked at who had just crossed the threshold and stepped into the sitting room.  Adrienne moved to her feet quickly as she went to greet her other son while Lucioux hung back.  He’d been roped into this Starlight get together his mother wanted to help decorate the tree and family room and unlike his father who had found an excuse he was not quite so lucky.

 

“Dacien!” Adrienne exclaimed as she moved to greet her youngest, the man garbed in dark clothes still dusted with snow.  Her arms wound around her youngest son, pulling him in for a hug and Dacien returned it, leather gloved fingers resting lightly on her back.

 

“Mother,” he smiled and greeted her quietly, “It’s good to see you.”

  
“I’m so glad you came,” she returned, relief coloring her voice, “I feared you would find an excuse or not show.  Your father won’t be joining us it seems.”

 

“My apologies Mother,” Dacien offered, “I know this means a lot to you so I am here.”

 

Adrienne tutted at him and pulled him by the hand over toward the sofa beginning to fuss over his coat and whether he was well.  Turquoise eyes looked fondly on her before moving to the other elezen present in the room.  His brother Lucioux stood stock still with an ornament still in hand looking as if he’d just tasted the sourest of milk.  The two had rarely if ever seen eye to eye though there were certainly moments of civility for their mother’s sake or because society dictated it.

 

“Brother,” Dacien offered with a nod of greeting toward the elder man.  Adrienne was currently trying to convince him to shed some layers and Dacien had only yielded his outer coat thus far.  An almost tangible silence filled the room for a few moments before Lucioux replied finally.

  
“Dacien.”

 

The greeting was frosty but not wholly unkind.  The two had never truly seen eye to eye but for their mother’s sake they had moments of civility.  Once more silence hung over the trio and Adrienne glanced between the two men, her sons.

 

“It’s so nice to have you both here to help with the Starlight decorating,” Adrienne commented as she smoothed her skirts, “We should all have some hot cocoa to warm up with.”

 

The woman smiled as she stood, even though the gesture and her next words were a bit strained, “Perhaps some festive music rolls for the orchestrion also.”

 

Carefully Adrienne stood, making her way toward the door slowly.  The intention of carols and cocoa was to help ease the tension she felt growing at the moment.  If her husband was there, their father, she knew it would only be worse.  Almant and Dacien had never seen eye to eye at all and the dislike between them as tangible.  At least with his brother Dacien could now act more unaffected.  With her hand on the door Adrienne turned to the two, “I’ll be back shortly if you want to keep decorating the tree.  I can’t wait to see what you do with it.”

 

No answer was forthcoming immediately and she ducked out of the room, a quiet sigh exhaled as she leaned against the door.  Adrienne made her way to the kitchens in search of Rauchelle the head chef and Nirault the head butler.  The two would be easily able to accommodate her requests and if she was lucky there would be holiday cookies ready to ply the two men with.  Rarely had either one been able to resist the head chef’s cookies.  As she walked Adrienne thought over matters and her sons relationship.  Flashes of memories reached her, of fights and arguments past.  The never ending desire for the two to pick at one another.  They’d always been at odds, two reasons standing out clearly in her mind.  Their differing personalities and desires in life, and the man missing from the Starlight festivities.  It was little secret that Almant had favored Lucioux in nearly every way.  Adrienne even recalled one day having to field an awkward conversation with a newer maid to the staff as the girl wondered why the young master seemed to think his father hated him.

 

The two had never gotten on well a mix of rivalry more at first and eventual just dislike for one another as they grew.  Adrienne suspected that civility at this point was likely the most she could expect and carried that thought with her as she made her requests of the servants.  Soon enough she and Nirault were on their way back to the parlor with cookies, cocoa and some festive music to play on the orchestrion.  As they opened the door to the room she could hear the two going at it.  With a sigh she steeled herself and they quieted as the door swung open.  The tree was more decorated though, Dacien to one side and Lucioux to the other.  Each held an ornament in hand as they had been picking at one another.  From what Adrienne had heard it seemed Dacien favored the hidden barbs while his brother still lived for the blatant ones.  Both offered her a slightly awkward look as she entered and slipped back into a sense of civility.

 

“It’s looking wonderful you two,” she praised with a smile as she moved over to stand before the tree, “I’m so proud of you both.”


	29. Prophecy - Warnings of the Past

“Are you listening to me?” The calm voice interrupted the boy’s thoughts and he swiveled his head in a bored fashion to the speaker.  His father sat there with an almost weary look on his face.  A sneer threatened to creep up but somehow the boy managed to shove it back down.  He suspected that wouldn’t make this conversation go any easier.

 

“Of course father,” Almant muttered, the irritation thinly veiled in his voice.  He was tired, he wanted to go back to not having this talk.

 

“I doubt you are truly, or that if you are anything is being taken to heart,” Vecont Mythale, Lord of the Family, sighed.  He could not help but realize his two sons were so very very different.  Cisent was like he was and a part of him regretted that the boy had been second born.  The method of inheritance would dictate the Lordship pass to the eldest unless he was seen as unfit or disowned.  Idly Vecont supposed that he could break protocol by having Cisent take the position but he knew that would cause more harm than good.  Almant would take the slight in the worst of ways and so he could only hope to shape the boy into a decent man before the day came where he would carry the title of Lord.

  
Truthfully Vecont could not see why his eldest was the way he was.  A part worried it was how he was raised and yet he knew the two brothers had been brought up the same way.  Despite Almant being the first born he had never had undue pressure placed on him, or cold indifference to mold him into the ‘perfect noble’ in society’s eyes.  Still he grew so differently from his brother.  So full of hate, and a temper that led to altercation after altercation.  There was a darkness brewing in him, something he hesitated to call evil but yet there it hung on the tip of his tongue.  He wanted to see the good in the boy, hope he could turn himself around.  The reports of altercations with other knights had dropped drastically though it was such a sudden spike that Vecont could not help but wonder if it were more to the incidents not being reported than actually quelled before they started.

 

He watched as Almant sat there, so bored, so disinterested.  He sighed once more, this time a warning coming before he dismissed the boy, “Be careful of how you live your life.  Of the actions you choose son.  One day the Fury will tally the score and you will be brought to answer for them whether you want to or not.”


	30. Frost - Crystalline

Ice etched along the windows as Dacien carefully uncrated some of the newest shipment.  Isterre was downstairs handling the main shop with Rinalys to keep him company which left the Lord to relax upstairs with a light lunch, a hot cup of tea and his newest acquisitions.  Dacien was sure that some of these would find their way to his private shelves but at the same time some would move to the cases for sale.  Small magical trinkets of the usual fare, standard and in high demand by even the most basic practitioner filled three of the five boxes.  Those three his usual order of assorted items.  The other two had come from another source.  One of his contacts had come across some odds and ends at various estate auctions and other ‘avenues less savory.’  Those were carefully packed and warded before being shipped.  The first box had yielded little of interest to him personally and nothing too dangerous to resell.  It was carefully set aside to be priced and added to stock in the next days.  With Starlight approaching he was ensuring that he had more than enough for last minute purchases.

 

More uncommon but not truly spectacular items were nestled in the last crate and he’d almost wondered what really had led the man to think these were spectacular enough for his attention til he saw it at the bottom.  A crystalline gem, dual toned, oddly shaped and strangely glowing.  He could feel the quiet hum from it as it sat in it’s warded box at the bottom.  Immediately the color struck him.  Those colors so similar to a mismatched set of eyes he had come to favor so much of late.  Dacien knew immediately that this was not going out for sale.  Though it wasn’t going to his own private collection either.  No this was meant for another purpose.  He gave a faint smile as he lifted the box out carefully and set it aside.  Mouse raised his head as he watched the action and noted the smile.  The small voidsent knew the man was up to something but he was unsure what.  The rest of the sorting was finished over the course of the lunch and tea and carefully he carried the gem in it’s box that he had decided to keep.  Only a few other tomes of rarer origin had sparked his interest for himself to keep.  He bid Isterre and Rinalys goodbye as he left the shop, bundled up for the cold weather.

 

Booted feet carried him quickly and quietly through the city toward the back allies and far from the Crozier.  A small shop nestled in the far back of one of the middle class districts.  Most would overlook it as it wasn’t bright or flashy but it did excellent work and Dacien had frequented it for many years.  The gem in hand he quickly outlined what he desired and offered forth his focus to use as a guide for his intended surprise.  Arrangements were made and the old man gave him a strangely fond smile.  The gil was exchanged and a promised date was arranged for pick up.  Two days before starlight to give him the time to put the finishing touches on it.

 

Keeping the secret wasn’t easy especially when the two watching the shop had drilled him on his return.  He’d left with a box in hand and came back with nothing.  Dacien’s only words had been that soon enough they would see.  The days passed and soon enough it was Starlight eve.  Carefully he set the long box beneath the tree, marked with a tag in blue declaring the box to be for one particular duskwight.  Edarien’s name stood out in black ink on the blue, penned in Dacien’s own handwriting.  He’d made sure to wrap this present himself.  Truly he couldn’t wait to see the look on the man’s face when he saw the customized rapier and focus set he’d had made to compliment his own but made for Edarien.  Morning could not come soon enough he thought as he made his way back upstairs to retrieve the other items he’d gotten to put in everyone’s stockings.  For once Dacien found himself looking forward to Starlight.


End file.
